#Atletico Madrid Femenino

[meazalykov]

pick a side

gio queiroz x uswnt!reader

summary: you feel forced to pick a side during the national break

warnings: swearing, google translated language

this match has been fast-paced.

the stands in this los angeles stadium are packed, the crowd yelling with excitement as the game nears its conclusion. you’ve kept your head down for most of the match, focusing on your role, finding your rhythm, and working to break through brazil’s backline. 

the banter on the pitch has been light, even playful at times. you’ve exchanged a few teasing smiles and glances with gio, your girlfriend of eight months, but nothing that would draw attention… at least, that was the plan.

it’s the 87th minute now, and the game feels like it’s teetering on the edge. tied 1-1, neither side is giving an inch. the sun has dipped low, painting the sky a hazy orange as the stadium lights flicker on. the ball pings around midfield, and then lindsey charges in, her presence commanding, as always for someone who needs to fulfill a captain role. 

gio had the ball, but lindsey steps in hard on gio, winning the ball but making contact that’s just a bit too aggressive. you see gio stumble back, not falling but she almost did. the brazilian’s face twisting in frustration as she plants her feet.

lindsey straightens, turning to walk away, but gio isn’t letting it slide. 

"que porra é essa?" gio snaps, her voice carrying just enough to draw a few heads. you recognize the tone immediately.. sharp, challenging. your eyes widen from forty yards away. 

lindsey pauses, pivoting back to face her, jaw tight, eyes narrowing. 

"you got something to say?" lindsey shoots back, her voice calm but laced with that signature edge. she’s keeping it together.. for now. you can see her fingers curl slightly, her composure fraying just enough to be noticeable.

gio waves her hand dismissively, a clear gesture for lindsey to back off. 

"fuck off," gio mutters, shaking her head. the motion isn’t aggressive, but the intent is clear, and you know lindsey well enough to know it’s like waving a red flag in front of a bull.

lindsey takes a step closer, her head tilting slightly, her voice dropping lower but losing none of its sharpness. 

"what’s your problem?"

you instinctively start to move toward them, but trinity’s hand stretches out across your chest before you can take a step. 

"don’t," she warns, her voice quiet but firm. 

"i think you should stay out of it luv."

you glance at trinity, your brows furrowing in silent protest, but you know she’s right. lindsey doesn’t need you stepping in, and gio doesn’t need you choosing sides.. not here, not now. 

that doesn’t stop the unease curling in your stomach as you watch the exchange unfold.

gio plants her hands on her sides, her expression unwavering, meeting lindsey’s glare with equal intensity. they’re inches apart now, voices rising just enough for the crowd closest to the pitch to pick up on the spat.

this is when sonnet, and angelina from the other team start to run up and break things apart before they go too far. your heart pounds as you stay rooted in place, the tension crackling like static in the air. 

your position at striker suddenly feels miles away. you can’t hear every word, but the tone is unmistakable.. neither of them is backing down. of course not, gio had never broken down from a challenge. even when you played against atletico madrid in barcelona, your club, she was the last person to accept defeat for the sake of her own ego.

you feel your hands ball into fists at your sides, every instinct screaming for you to step in, to diffuse this before it escalates further. 

trinity’s hand presses against your shoulder again, her voice barely above a whisper. 

"i know you want to help your girlfriend and linds but it’s not your fight." you nod reluctantly, your eyes flickering between lindsey and gio. 

you just hope neither of them crosses a line they can’t step back from.

your hopes go to waste. one second, lynn is stepping in, arms raised in a gesture to calm things down, her voice steady as she tries to play the mediator. the next, gio jerks back, her expression shifting sharply, mistaking lynn’s approach as something hostile or aggressive. 

“don’t touch me!” gio exclaims, her voice cutting through the noise, and it’s like a spark to dry grass. the reaction is instant. a few of the brazilian players rush in, their protective instincts kicking in as they misinterpret lynn’s movement. 

your eyes widen, heart pounding in your chest as the tension erupts into chaos. voices overlap, sharp and heated in english, portuguese, and even a bit of spanish. players from both teams converge, trying to either escalate or diffuse the situation. you see gabi arguing with lynn, their gestures animated. lindsey steps forward again, her captain’s armband visible as she squares up, shouting something you can’t quite make out.

the ref’s whistle blows, shrill and piercing, but it barely cuts through the commotion. she rushes into the fray, trying to separate players, her face stern and authoritative, but it’s clear she’s losing control of the situation.

you feel rooted in place, torn between stepping in and staying back. trinity’s hand is still lightly on your arm, a silent reminder to hold your position. beside you, sophia jogs up, her brow furrowed in confusion. 

“are they still upset about the gold medal game?” she asks, glancing toward the brazilian players who seem particularly agitated.

trinity lets out a soft, almost incredulous giggle, but you shut it down quickly, your voice firm. 

“no, they’ve moved on.” you mean it, mostly. gio and the others had congratulated you last year, telling you the better team had won, and there was no lingering bitterness.. at least, none you’d picked up on.

watching the scene unfold, it’s hard not to wonder if the loss still stings, if the weight of that match lingers in moments like this, where tempers flare and emotions run high. your eyes dart to gio, who’s still gesturing animatedly at lynn, her voice raised, though the words are lost in the noise. 

a minute after lynn came through and.. attempted.. to break things up, the collective retreat is almost comical, like someone hit an invisible pause button. players from both teams step back, hands raised or resting on their hips, the tension diffusing in unison as if they all silently agreed this wasn’t worth escalating further. 

the ref stands at the center of it all, her whistle still gripped tightly, her face a mix of frustration and exhaustion. 

you watch as she raises two yellow cards, one in each hand..one for lindsey, one for gio. it’s not exactly shocking. both of them are fiery, unafraid to stand their ground, and, honestly, it could’ve been worse. 

still, you can’t help but roll your eyes, letting out a soft exhale as you shake your head. you mutter to yourself, “of course.”

as you jog back to your position, your gaze instinctively shifts to gio. she’s standing about twenty feet away, her expression unreadable at first. then, she meets your eyes, and you see it..a look that’s part curious, part questioning. it’s subtle, but you know her well enough to catch it: 

are you on my side?

you bite back a groan, unwilling to let her pull you into whatever narrative is brewing in her mind. instead, you mouth the words, exaggerating them just enough so she can catch them from the distance: 

we will talk about it later. 

you emphasize the later, hoping she understands there’s a time and place, and it’s definitely not here.

gio smirks faintly, her head tilting as if to say, fine. 

the game resumes, but not without a sigh from almost everyone on the pitch. the board goes up at the 90th minute, signaling 8 extra minutes. you don’t even have to ask; you know those minutes are for the chaos lindsey and gio stirred up. 

"unbelievable," you mutter under your breath, repositioning yourself and shaking off the lingering tension. this match just couldn’t end quietly, could it?

finally, the final whistle comes which brings a sense of relief for you, the tension melting away as both teams fall into the familiar post-match routine. 

players exchange handshakes, some linger to chat with club teammates, and there’s an easy camaraderie between many of the players despite the earlier chaos. you weave through the crowd, smiling and greeting a few friends, like angelina and gabi, catching up briefly before your focus shifts to the stands.

you’re about to walk over to greet the fans when a hand gently catches your arm, stopping you in your tracks. the touch is familiar, as is the soft voice that follows. 

“can we talk? i don’t think i’ll be able to wait until we’re back in spain.”

you turn around, meeting gio’s eyes. there’s a softness there now, a sharp contrast to the fire she showed on the pitch earlier. you give her a small smile, trying to keep things light. 

“can we swap?” you ask, tugging lightly at her jersey… her lips curve into a smirk, but she doesn’t let you off that easily. 

“you’re avoiding the conversation,” she says, the teasing lilt in her voice clear.

“i am,” you admit, not bothering to deny it. 

“because that moment was ridiculous, gio.”

she chuckles softly but doesn’t argue as you both swap jerseys, the smooth motion practiced after years of playing. you pull on her green brazilian home kit while she slips into your blue popsicle-colored away jersey, your name standing out boldly on the back.

“i’m sorry,” gio starts, her tone quieter now as she rubs her hand gently on your shoulder.

 “i just thought you’d be on my side. you saw how your captain pushed me right before.”

you sigh, meeting her gaze evenly. 

“i know. it was a wrong move, but you know it didn’t have to escalate that far.”

gio nods, her head dipping slightly.

 “i know, and i’m sorry, baby.”

the corner of your mouth lifts into a smirk, though you try to keep it stern. 

“gio…” your tone is warning, but playful. “there’s a time and a place.”

she exhales dramatically, though her smile doesn’t falter. 

“again, i’m sorry. i know you’re on her side—”

“i’m not on lindsey’s side,” you cut in quickly. 

“in fact, i think she might talk to me about this since, you know, i’m your girlfriend and all.”

gio winces slightly but recovers with a sheepish grin. 

“again, i’m sorry.”

“stop apologizing,” you tell her firmly, your tone light but sincere.

“there’s nothing to apologize to me about.”

“fine,” she relents, her smirk growing as she steps closer and pulls you into a hug. the warmth of her embrace melts away any lingering frustration, and just as you’re starting to relax, she leans in, her voice dropping to a whisper.

“i know you’re on my side, as much as you don’t want to admit it.”

masterlist

[theitaliansalad]

they found someone's ao3 account.

(credits: @ Barcafemenifoto on Twitter/X)

[pitchsidestories]

hate that I love you II Ana Maria Crnogorčević x Reader

masterlist I word count: 1759

a/n: we hope you enjoy reading the oneshot, we'd love to hear your thoughts on it. <3

warnings: slight smut in the middle, a bit of angst, but with a happy ending.🖤

“Ana!”, Keira shouted the name of your former Barca teammate, after the English midfielder has spotted the Swiss woman in the crowd.

The Champions league final was over, your team has won the title a second time in a row. But the celebratory mood you were in just a few seconds ago was gone at the sight of your ex-girlfriend. It made your blood turn cold.

“Ale, what the hell is Ana doing here? Who even invited her?”, you asked your captain furiously.

In an instant, she noticed your change of mood, that was why the midfielder replied cautiously:” I think some of the girls did or she just came to visit.”

“Oh, wow.”, you huffed, trying to get as far away from your former lover as possible. Seems like you weren’t that lucky this evening in Bilbao, she already had set her eyes on you, calling your name.

“Hi, y/n.”

“Ana. Sorry, but I got to go.”, you lied, while walking into the direction to the changing rooms.

“Where’s she going?”, Ana questioned as she was slowly following you..

“Isn’t that obvious? You broke up with her.”, Alexia reminded the taller woman.

“She still didn’t have to run away.”, the Swiss player mumbled, the hurt was written all over her face.

Meanwhile Keira who has been quiet after hugging her enthusiastically, joined their conversation with a low voice:” No but you ran away first, remember?”

“I didn’t. It was better that way.”, Ana corrected the English woman, before she headed into the changing room where you were standing all by yourself. The party was heading somewhere else already.

You heard her last words loud and clear: ”No, it wasn’t, you’ve chosen the cowardly way after almost four years of being together. You acted like that time meant nothing to you.”

Finally, you got the chance to tell her how devasted you were about her sudden move to Madrid.

“That’s not true. It wouldn’t have worked out long distance and you know that.”, the Swiss player disagreed.

“No, I don’t know that actually, because we never tried it!”, you protested.

“Yeah, sure. You were pouting because I left the team.”, Ana rolled her eyes annoyed at you.

Her behaviour only fed the anger you felt inside.

“Yes, because you told me those transfer news a day before you left for the capitol.”

“Because I knew you’d be pouting.”, she shot back, almost stumbling over the empty champagne bottles which were left on the ground.  

This moment felt almost like a symbol of your failed relationship as it started golden, perfect even, with your first ever champions league win during the covid period, and the following wins, which abruptly ended in shattered hopes and dreams.

You tore your gaze away from the champagne bottles and looked straight at Ana.

“Oh.“, you said, your jaw set. “Sorry that you meant something to me. What a fool I was. Hope you’re happy now.“

Anas face changed from a slight moment to confusion to immediate annoyance: “Oh my god, you can be so damn dramatic!“

“Why are you even here? You ruined a perfect final with your presence.“, you spat back.

Anas eyes sparkled with furiousness: “Oh I’m sorry. Sorry that my friends are still here and that this team still means something to me!“

You were taking aback by how loud her voice had gotten but you kept glaring at her: “Fine. Go and celebrate with them. But leave me alone!“

All of a sudden, you felt Anas weight on you as she pinned you against the wall of the changing room. You had to suppress a surprised shriek.

Ana tilted her head, her lips curved in the smallest hint of a smirk: “Or what?“

“Get your hands off of me!“, you said through gritted teeth.

“Make me.“, your ex-girlfriend challenged you.

In a heartbeat you leaned forward, pressing your lips onto Anas. Just when she started to return the kiss, you bit down hard on her lower lip.

She pulled back: “Hey!“

“Can I go now?“, you asked impatiently.

“No.“

You locked eyes with her again. Your voice was pure ice when you replied. “I hate you so much…“

Anas hand found its way into your ponytail, pulling on it roughly.

You hissed.

“Say that again.“, Ana ordered.

“What? I hate that I still love you…“

Anas grip on your hair loosened. “I know you do.“

“What about you?“, you asked. You hated that your voice still sounded so hopeful when you only wanted to despise the woman in front of you.

Your ex ignored your question deliberately. “You need to shut up now.“

“Go on.“

“I’ll.“

And suddenly, her lips were on yours again. Her body pressed so hard against your own that you could feel her heat on your skin. You kissed back with hunger while Ana shoved her thigh between your legs. Biting back a moan, you began to move against her.

Anas hands, in the meantime, had slipped under your jersey, exploring your skin with the lightest touch.

You knew you should not but you could not stop yourself. It was as if your body had taken control, taking what it had craved for so long.

Ana was in the motion of finally pulling your jersey over your head and your body tingled with excitement, when the door to the changing room was opened.

“Girls, we’re going to party!“, Keiras voice announced, before stopping herself. “Oh, seems like you already started.“

“Come back later.”, the Swiss woman told the midfielder in a casual tone as if the redhead couldn’t see the messy state, you two were in.

“See you girls.”, she muttered and closed the door again much to your own relief.

“Oh my god, that was embarrassing.”, you mumbled against the older player’s chest.

“Whatever. As if she cares.”, Ana shrugged.

“Right, Laura will distract her from what she just saw.”, you smirked while you thought about the happy couple.

“I’m sure.”, the blonde nodded.

“Thank god.”, you sighed, forever gratefully for the Austrian footballer.

“She came in at the worst time though. I was just getting into it.”, the older woman whispered into your ear, although you couldn’t see her face you could hear from her voice that she was smiling.

“Need a reminder where we stopped?”, you looked up to her, eyes sparkling.

“No. Come here.”, Ana shook her head, before continuing what she started, her touches even hungrier than before.

In between you put your hand on her body middle to stop her, asking the one question which was burning hot on your tongue:” Did you miss me in Madrid?”

“Of course. Every day.”, the Swiss player answered truthfully.

 “When why didn’t you say everything? You were multiple times in Barcelona.”, you pressed on.

“You know why.”, she responded quietly, while tucking in a loose string of the hair behind your ear.

“Because it would have made it worse.”, you replied.

“But it was worth to wait.”, Ana said winking, alluding to the fun you had only minutes earlier.

“You’re an idiot, you know that, right?”, you laughed at her playful mood.

“Maybe I’m.”, she admitted seriously.

“To be fair so am I.”, you confessed, remembering how the blonde was till able to make your legs go weak.

“Looks like we both are.”, the Swiss woman smiled sadly. There was a melancholy air surrounding your ex-lover and you which couldn’t be waved off.

“Yes, seems like it.”, you agreed.

“So.. want to continue making out or..?”, Ana quickly distracted you from the thoughts which tinted everything sepia coloured like it was a moment from the past, but actually everything what happened was in the present.

“No, let’s stop talking and continue kissing.”, you decided, while turning your words into actions. She gladly obliged to your decision.

In the morning you awoke to Alexia’s cheerful voice, of course your captain was already up:” Y/n, wake up, we got to go!”

Your heart sank when you turned your head to Ana whose eyes were still closed, her arms wrapped around you:” Ana? I’ve to leave.”

“Okay, Barca needs you, I understand that.”, she responded, although the older woman hasn’t let you go yet.

The light of the sun fell through the curtain and gave everything it touched a warm glow including her.

“You can sleep a little longer.”, you offered her heavy-hearted.

“No.“, Ana said. Her voice was still a little hoarse from the sleep but she sounded determined.

“No?“, you echoed.

Ana pulled you closer, whispering into your ear: “I’ll think that I only dreamed this.“

“But it was real.“, you replied, studying her face thoroughly.

With a sigh, she finally let go of you. “Visit me in Madrid.“

A slight smile tugged on your lips as you crawled out of bed: “I’ll. See you there.“

Ana watched you while you got dressed: “Hopefully soon.“

“Promise.“, you said before you grabbed your bag and were out the door.

You could feel her gaze linger on your back as you left.

Alexia was already waiting for you. You were unable to interpret the look on her face but she was eyeing you cautiously as though she was searching for a hint.

When you approached her, she only let out a breath: “You girls.“

You rolled your eyes: “Don’t say anything, Alexia.“

Your captain remained unimpressed by that. Instead, she shrugged with a smirk: “I have to.“

“Fine but quick.“, you gave in. All you wanted to do was go home to Barcelona and sort your thoughts.

Alexias smile grew wider: “You’re the same kind of idiots.“

“Rude.“, you said, more amused than offended.

“It’s true.“

“Maybe a bit… She asked me to visit her in Madrid.“, you admitted quietly.

Your teammate nodded slowly, seemingly unsurprised: “She means it. You two miss each other.“

“I hate that I love her…“

“You can hate it all you want but you need her.“, Alexia replied calmly.

“You’re right.“

You had to finally admit it, your captain knew you better than anyone else on the team. Maybe she was right. Maybe all the hatred and pain you had felt had been unnecessary. Maybe there was an easy solution to this ache you felt in your chest.

That was how you found yourself in Madrid on your next free day. Your heart thumped against your chest as you waited on Anas door step.

Finally, the door opened and her face appeared in the gap.

“Hi.“, you said softly.

A smile of pleasant surprise appeared on Anas lips. “Hi. Come in.“

[didalexiabreakupwitholgaisback]

Is Lucia Garcia and Silvia lloris together

well, they've been awfully cosy together for the past few months haven't they, anon? 😉

[outsideratheart]

With Real we may have the El Classico but this Madrid fixture has a history and will forever be my favourite league fixture💙❤️

[alotofpockets]

Ana-Maria Crnogorčević Appreciation

woso appreciation masterlist | with @totaly-obsessed

[guapagorcevic]

[ankaraalexiafcb]

Ufff that goal from the best player in the world my goat Caroline Graham Hansen 🐐

Also Caro assist to Aitana is her 100th Assists 🐐

[cee-jay-mcwfc]

Chicas 😍

[asllani]

BANINI ☄️

[talkingwoso]

Atleti introducing both men and women and giving a 10/10 presentation. Muy bien atleti 👏👏

[onabatlle-2]

from the youth teams to their first senior world cup together 🥺

[rubes6]

Banini is fucking insane

[didalexiabreakupwitholgaisback]

Aitana rest! 🎉🎉🎉

Finally! 🎉

yes, rest for aitana! 🎉 but no rest or rotation for cata! 😐 (and we should note that lola gallardo will not play for atletí due to concussion protocol).

also, aitana was apparently unwell on monday and did not train but she is better and available as a sub today. 🙏

hmm, the only time i can recall is the match against madrid off earlier this season, when vicky subbed off and alexia subbed on and it was the three together iirc. i don't remember the three of them starting together, unless it was a situation where aitana-keira-patri were the midfield and alexia was on the wings/false 9. 🤔

(the best way to figure it out is if someone goes through fotmob and confirms!)

[realmadridnews]

Atletico Madrid Femenino - Real Madrid Femenino 1:2

scorers: 0:1, Caicedo 44'

0:2, Gaby Garcia (OG) 52'

1:2, Misa (OG) 65'

Atletico Madrid Femenino: Gallardo; Leal, Xenia Perez, Lloris; Moraza (88' Medina), Pinto (59' VItoria), Gaby Garcia, Otermin (80' Jensen); Ajibade, Guijarro (59' Queiroz), Benitez (80' Risa)

Real Madrid Femenino: Misa; Sheila Garcia, Mendez, Lakrar, Carmona; Leupolz, Toletti (76' Athenea), Angeldahl (76' Abelleira); Weir, Bruun (61' Redondo), Caicedo (88' Antonia)

[alotofpockets]

Gio Queiroz for Brazil Appreciation

Request a player | with @totaly-obsessed