#Bayern Munich Stadium

[wallpapers4screen]

[sports-talk]

football moodboard

*ೃ༄ my club, my one and only club .ೃ࿐

[arts-publisher]

UEFA EURO 2024 Stadiums

[sport-captures]

[meazalykov]

new family

barcelona femení x kika nazareth x reader

summary: if your family cannot accept you for who you are, your new family will.

warnings: homophobia mentions, coming out, angst, comfort, very long fic

your new home.

the first time you step foot in barcelona, it feels like an entirely new world. at just nineteen, you've been given a rare opportunity to live across the atlantic ocean, far from home, far from the familiar comforts of family and friends to play for the best club in women’s football as a defender. 

it's thrilling, this chance to explore yourself and form your own ideas without the weight of your past or family pulling you back. but it’s also terrifying, since you have to build your social life from the ground up.

the team welcomes you warmly, and before long, you feel like you’re a part of something special– a new family. 

you bond quickly with your teammates, and learn your new rhythm of life in spain. 

but to you there's one person who stands out more than the others—kika, the newest player at barcelona. she's full of life, happy, with a laugh that makes your heart race and a smile that lights up even the darkest days.

at first, you don't understand why you're drawn to her the way you are. 

you’ve had crushes before, but this feels different, for many reasons.

your last crushes were on men, many years ago during your middle school days. 

the feelings you have for kika are more intense, more real. 

you find yourself watching her during training, lingering in her presence, and feeling a flutter in your chest whenever she talks to you. she asks you to be her partner during drills, and you always accept. 

the whole thing is confusing, overwhelming, and a little scary, but also something you can’t ignore.

as the days turn into weeks and the weeks into months, your feelings for kika grow stronger. it hits you one evening when you’re both sitting on the blue barcelona benches after a late training session, the sky painted with the soft hues of an orange spanish sunset. 

kika is talking about her family back home in portugal, her eyes sparkling with fondness, and you realize that you don’t just like kika—you’re Infatuated with her. in that moment, everything clicks into place.

you’re a lesbian.

it’s a realization that shakes you to your core, but also feels like a puzzle piece finally falling into place. 

for the first time, you truly understand who you are, and it’s liberating. 

you begin to accept it, slowly, carefully, letting the idea settle in your mind. it’s a part of you, a part that you hadn’t fully understood until now.

kika, oblivious to the storm of emotions inside you, continues to talk, and you smile, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. you don’t know when it happens exactly, but one day, she looks at you in a way that’s different from before—softer, more intimate—and you realize she feels the same. 

it’s subtle at first, a brush of hands, a shared look that lingers a little too long, until one night after el clasico when you invite her over to your apartment, she kisses you.

it’s everything you’ve imagined and more—soft, sweet, and filled with love. 

you pull back, breathless, staring into her eyes with a mix of disbelief and joy. 

“is this okay?” she asks, her voice barely above a whisper, and you nod, too overwhelmed to speak.

“yeah, it’s more than okay,” you finally manage, and she smiles, pulling you into another kiss, this one deeper, more assured. it’s the beginning of something beautiful, something that feels right.

it’s a crisp evening in january in munich, the air buzzing with the electric energy that only a champions league match can bring. 

the stands are packed, fans draped in blaugrana, but with german red as well. 

their cheers and chants echoing through the stadium. you’re on the pitch, adrenaline coursing through your veins as you face off against bayern munich, the intensity of the match pushing you to your limits.

the game has been tight, both teams fighting fiercely for dominance on the field. 

you’ve been giving it your all, weaving through defenders, pressing high, stopping german forwards, creating chances, but the breakthrough hasn’t come yet. 

the score is still 0-0, and you know that one goal for barcelona could change everything in the group stage match.

then, it happens.

a perfectly timed pass from alexia sends the ball back to your foot, just outside the box and after the halfway line. 

as a defender, you notice gaps. bayern had a huge gap where you could launch the ball towards the goal– the only risk being their goalkeeper blocking it. 

you take a quick touch, setting yourself up, and without hesitation, you strike. the ball sails through the air, spinning towards the top corner, and for a split second, time seems to slow down. 

the breath in your lungs were held, watching as the bayern goalkeeper dives, her fingertips brushing the ball—but it’s not enough.

the ball hits the back of the net.

for a moment, there’s silence, as if the entire stadium is holding its breath. 

then the roar of the away crowd erupts around you, deafening and exhilarating, and you feel a rush of pure, unfiltered joy. 

you did it. you scored in the champions league.

as a centre back, this hasn’t happened with you much.

your teammates rush towards you after you put your hands up in joy, their faces alight with excitement and pride. 

you’re grinning so wide it hurts, your heart pounding in your chest as they surround you, offering high-fives, smacks on the back, and hugs. 

but it’s kika who reaches you last, on purpose– her eyes shining with a mix of awe and love.

before you can say anything, she’s wrapping her arms around you, pulling you into a tight embrace. 

you can feel her heart beating just as fast as yours, her breath warm against your ear as she whispers, “you were amazing, y/n.”

and then, without a second thought, she presses a soft kiss to your cheek. it’s a sweet, tender gesture, full of affection and pride, and it sends a warm flush spreading through your entire body. the kiss lingers, her lips soft against your skin, and you can’t help the way your heart skips a beat at the contact.

her words stick to you. she didn’t mention the goal, she said that you were good.

you pull back slightly, just enough to see the wide smile on her face, and you’re sure you’re blushing, but you don’t care. 

“thank you,” you murmur, your voice soft, almost shy.

the moment doesn’t go unnoticed. your teammates who got back in their positions start to giggle and cheer, their voices playful as they take in the scene. 

“look at that!” ewa teases, a wide grin on her face. “our goal scorer’s getting some extra love.”

ona, who’s always quick with a quip, sidles up beside you, her eyes twinkling with mischief. 

“y/n, you’re so in love it’s written all over your cute face.”

you glance at kika, who watched you with that same soft smile before setting herself up for the game, and you know you can’t deny it. 

not when you feel like this—so happy, so content, so in love. you shrug, a playful smile tugging at your lips as you meet ona’s gaze. “i can’t help it,” you say, your voice full of warmth. “she’s kind of hard to resist.”

the match continues, but that moment stays with you—etched into your memory as one of the sweetest, most genuine moments of your life. and as the whistle blows on the field again, you can’t help but feeling like you’ve won twice in one evening.

being with your girlfriend is like a dream. she’s everything you could have hoped for in a partner—kind, understanding, and so full of love that it makes your heart swell just thinking about her. 

your teammates notice the change in you, the way you light up whenever kika is around, and they’re happy for you. 

alexia, your captain and neighbor, is especially supportive, always there with a knowing smile or a gentle word of encouragement.

living next door to alexia and her girlfriend, olga, has its perks. 

the two of them have taken you under their wing from the moment you arrived, treating you like a little sister. alexia is the kind of leader who leads by example, and she’s always there to guide you, both on and off the pitch. her and olga’s relationship is something you look up to.

you spend countless nights at their apartment, talking about life advice, football, and everything in between. 

alexia is your rock, she is the goat to everyone but to you she is another sister. someone you can lean on when things get tough, and olga is like another mother figure, always ready with a joke to lighten the mood, help you with dinner, or a hug when you need it most.

it’s during one of these late-night conversations that you find the courage to tell alexia about your true feelings for kika. 

she listens intently, her eyes full of understanding, and when you’re done, she smiles softly. 

“i’m proud of you, y/n,” she says, placing a hand on your shoulder. “i am happy that you’re being true to yourself– i had to go through the same thing. you and kika compliment each other very well.”

her words give you the strength you need to take the next step—to come out to your family. 

it’s something you’ve been dreading, but you know it’s something you have to do. so, one evening, you call them, your heart pounding in your chest as you wait for someone to pick up.

your mother answers first, her voice warm and familiar, and for a moment, you almost back out. 

but then you remember kika, the way she makes you feel, and you know you can’t keep this part of yourself hidden any longer. you wanted to show the world that you loved kika, and taking that step to tell your family first was important.

“mom, there’s something i need to tell you,” you begin, your voice trembling. 

you can hear the concern in her voice as she asks what’s wrong, and you take a deep breath, closing your eyes as you force the words out. 

“i’m… i’m dating someone–”

“oh my goodness, finally,” your mother cheers. 

“i didn’t realize that you’d have suitors in spain– what's the fellows name!?” she continued. 

your heart broke a tiny bit, knowing that it's not a man you’ll be telling her about. 

“you’ve been watching my games, right?” you ask. 

you couldn’t see your mom, but you could tell her eyebrows were raised. 

“yes?”

“number 18 on my team, kika– she is the person i am dating..” you swallow.

there’s a long silence on the other end of the line, and for a moment, you look at your phone thinking that the call has dropped. but then your mother speaks, her voice cold and distant in a way that makes your heart drop. 

“are you serious, y/n? is this some kind of phase?”

the words hit you like a punch to the gut, and you can feel the tears welling up in your eyes. 

“no, mom, it’s not a phase. i’m a lesbian. i’ve always been, i just… didn’t tell you until now.”

“y/n, this isn’t… this isn’t what our parents raised us to be,” your younger brother’s voice cuts in, harsh and unforgiving. 

“you can’t be serious about this. this has to be a joke. you’re throwing your life away for something that isn’t even right or makes sense.”

your heart breaks.

“it makes sense to me,” you whisper, but they’re not listening. 

they continue to talk, their voices overlapping in a barrage of judgment and disappointment, and you feel your heart tearing apart with every word.

“please, just… try to understand,” you plead, but it’s no use. they’ve made up their minds, and there’s nothing you can say to change it.

“y/n, you need to think about what you’re doing or if you’re being manipulated,” your mother says, her tone final. 

“we can’t support this or you. this is all wrong.”

the words echo in your mind, cutting deeper than anything you’ve ever felt before. 

they don’t accept you, they don’t understand, and it feels like your world is crumbling around you. 

“i… i can’t do this– goodbye.” you manage to choke out before ending the call, you quickly block your families numbers from your phones before the sobs hit your body– forcing you to collapse onto your bed.

you don’t know how long you stay there, crying into your pillow. the sun sets and now your room is dark, since you don’t bother getting up to turn on your ambient lamps.

eventually, you force yourself to get up when you notice the polaroid picture of you and kika sitting on your bedside table. 

your legs are shaky, your heart feels like it’s been smashed into a million pieces, but you know you can’t stay here. you need to be somewhere safe, somewhere where you’re loved.

the family you grew up with will not be your family anymore. you refuse to associate with individuals that cannot accept you for who you are. Luckily you’re in another country so it won’t be as hard.

without thinking, you grab your keys and head to alexia’s apartment across the hall. 

your hands tremble as you knock on the door, and when it opens, you’re shocked to see not just alexia and olga, but also ingrid, mapi, frido, caroline, and marta. 

they’re all there, gathered around the living room, and as soon as they see your tear-streaked face, they jump up from the sectional couch and rush to your side.

“y/n,¿qué pasó?” alexia asks, her voice full of concern as she pulls you into a tight hug.

you try to speak, but the words won’t come out, so you just shake your head, burying your face in her shoulder as the tears start again.

“it’s okay, you’re safe now,” she whispers, rubbing your back as the others gather around, offering their own words of comfort.

“they… they don’t accept me,” you finally manage to get out, your voice breaking. 

“they don’t understand, and they never will.”

there’s confusion from your teammates. everyone looks around to see anger and sadness in mapi’s eyes. she might not relate to it, but she knows exactly what you might’ve gone through. 

“y/n, i’m so sorry,” mapi says, her voice thick with emotion as she reaches out to squeeze your hand.

“you don’t need them,” mapi continues firmly, her hand resting on your shoulder. 

“what happened?” ingrid whispers in mapi’s ear. 

“my family doesn’t want me to be with her, they don’t accept me ingrid.” you say, rubbing your eyes as you put your head up from alexia’s shoulders. 

all of the adults in the room frowned.

“i am so sorry nina.” olga hugs you.

“we love you, y/n. everyone here, and everyone on the team, accepts you.” caroline rubs your shoulder as olga pulls away from your body.

“we’re your family now, y/n. we love you for who you are, no matter what.”

“and we always will,” frido adds, her voice soft but strong. 

“you’re not alone in this,” olga says.

“not at all.” alexia finishes.

the words are like a balm to your broken heart, and you feel a warmth spreading through you as you look around at the faces of your teammates—your friends, your family. 

they’re here for you, they love you, and they’re not going anywhere.

“thank you,” you whisper, your voice trembling as you look at each of them. 

“i don’t know what i’d do without you all.”

“you’ll never have to find out niña,” alexia says, pulling you into another hug. 

“we’re here for you, always.”

as the night goes on, you start to feel a little better, surrounded by the love and support of your teammates. 

it doesn’t erase the pain of your family’s rejection, but it helps to know that you’re not alone.

kika comes over to alexia’s apartment when mapi contacts her, not giving much detail but saying that you needed her support. 

when you tell kika everything– her eyes are wide, filled with a mixture of shock, worry, and something deeper—something that makes your heart ache all over again. 

she steps closer, her hand trembling slightly as she reaches out to touch your cheek, wiping away a stray tear with her thumb.

“y/n…” she whispers, her voice breaking with emotion. 

“i’m so sorry. i… i can’t believe they’d say that to you. you don’t deserve that. not at all.”

her words hit you hard, and you can see the pain etched on her face, pain that mirrors your own. 

it’s clear that she’s hurting for you, that your heartbreak is tearing her apart just as much as it’s tearing you apart. 

she pulls you into a hug, holding you so tight that you can feel her heart beating against yours, strong and steady, grounding you in a way that nothing else can.

“estou aqui, ok?” she murmurs, her breath warm against your ear as she strokes your hair. 

“i’m here, and i’m not going anywhere. we’ll get through this together, i promise.”

you clutch her tighter, feeling a fresh wave of tears coming on, but this time they’re different—not just tears of sadness, but also of gratitude. 

you don’t know what you did to deserve someone like kika in your life, someone who loves you so deeply and so fiercely, but in this moment, you’re thankful for every bit of it.

kika pulls back slightly, just enough to look into your eyes, her hands cupping your face with a tenderness that makes your chest tighten. 

“they don’t get to decide who you are or who you love,” she says, her voice firm, full of conviction. 

“you’re perfect just the way you are, y/n. and i love you, so much. don’t ever forget that.”

her words are saving, pulling you out of the darkness that’s been threatening to swallow you whole. 

you nod, unable to find the right words to respond, but the look in her eyes tells you that she understands.

“we’re your family now,” kika continues, her voice softening as she presses a gentle kiss to your forehead. she smile, not knowing that alexia said the same thing a few moments ago. 

“me, alexia, mapi, everyone here. we’re your family, and we’ll always be here for you, no matter what.”

the others nod in agreement, their expressions full of love and support, and you feel a warmth spreading through your chest, chasing away the coldness that’s been lingering since that painful phone call. 

you’re surrounded by people who love you for who you are, people who will stand by you through anything, and that’s more than you could have ever hoped for.

“i love you too, so much kika” you finally manage to say, your voice shaking with emotion as you look into kika’s eyes. 

“all of you. thank you… for being here, for loving me.” you say looking at your present teammates.

kika smiles, a soft, bittersweet smile that tells you she understands the depth of what you’re feeling. 

she leans in, pressing her lips to yours in a kiss that’s full of love, reassurance, and a promise of better days to come. 

it’s a kiss that reminds you that you’re not alone, that you have a family here in barcelona—a family that will love and support you no matter what.

when you finally pull away, you find yourself wrapped in the warmth of your teammates, their arms around you in a group hug that feels like a cocoon of safety and love. 

your new home.

if you're struggling with similar feelings, just know that you're loved always. it might not feel like it, but we love you and support you for who you are!

my master list is here if you want to read more fics <3

[ceesimz]

Wilted

Autistic Reader x Barça Femení

Another (13k wc) one shot, read the main story here!

Statistically, in your sport, you were one of the lucky ones. You had made it to 27 without spending more than two weeks at once out with an injury. Nothing too extreme, or painful. Just knocks here and there, a few minor muscle injuries, and the likes. 

Unfortunately, in this line of work, a bad injury was inevitable. In just one movement, it felt like your Champion's League dream was over.

Should you have signalled that you needed to come off earlier, when you took your first knock just halfway through the second half, maybe the game wouldn’t have ended the way it had. Maybe if you weren’t so naively determined, you wouldn’t have ended up face down on the grass hours away from home in Munich, writhing in pain.

The first leg of the Champion’s League quarter-final was bound to be a tough game, especially playing away at such a dominant Bayern team. None of your teammates could have expected it to be so physical though, it was uncharacteristically abnormal for both teams. The tussle you had found yourself in when you had received a sharp, fast knee from side-on against your thigh really should have been the end of your game. But you weren’t one to give up, especially when the score was still 0-0, the tension had to come to an eventual end for one team at some point and you wanted to be there to make that happen. You ignored the dull ache in your muscle and continued playing.

You were too eager though, playing with too much pent-up frustration to just get a goal, that you were involving yourself in unnecessary battles and making unrealistic runs. One of those occasions had to go wrong at some point, and it absolutely did.

With a long ball thrown over the top of the Bayern defence by Patri, you managed to outpace Eriksson and were comfortably at least half a metre in front. The ball was yours, you’d shrugged off the defender that had been on your tail relentlessly for eighty minutes so far, and this could be the deciding play of the first leg. This was your moment.

You wanted to show you were giving it your all, wanted to show how badly you needed this UWCL trophy after years of failure with another team in a different German town. You wanted to prove that you could do it all, leave nothing on the pitch, and come out on top with the iconic gold medal to show for it after getting your team to the final.

Except, with the harsh cold rain battering down, the ball glided after its first bounce out of your reach, causing you to overstretch. After that, you clattered heavily against the wet grass as a searing pain ripped through your leg. The excruciating cry you let out could be heard throughout the stadium, a grimace on everyone’s faces as it didn’t take a professional to know that the injury was a bad one. One of your hands fell to the epicentre of the pain on the back of your thigh, the other hand grabbing a fistful of grass as you sobbed in agony.

The ball was out of play anyway, allowing the referee to appropriately halt the game as players from both your team and Bayern came over. There were hands on your back and words uttered your way, but the panic rising through your chest and the ringing in your ears paired with the pain still running rife through you were too much to comprehend at once. The world felt so big and overwhelming, all you could do was squeeze your eyes shut and pray it all went away. The pain, the people around you, the fans watching with their eyes and their phones, the implications of what this injury meant. You couldn’t do this. 

“Hey, it’s me, it’s Ingrid, come back to me.” 

That voice broke through the brick wall of your thoughts, one gentle hand rubbing up and down your back as the other brushed a few damp wisps of hair out of your face. Vaguely, in the background, you registered an authoritative voice ushering everyone away before the brightness of the stadium floodlights dimmed behind your eyelids. Unbeknownst to you in that moment, your teammates had formed somewhat of a wall to save you from the view of the fans.

Another figure kneeled beside you, murmuring quietly with the person next to them before a soft, familiar hand took yours from the back of your leg and squeezed it comfortingly. It's quite clear to any player that you've got a hamstring injury, and the extent to which the discomfort you're feeling is concerning for everybody on the pitch. The hearts of the two people that love you most break for you.

“Cariño, we know you're in pain, but we need you to come back to us. We want to help.” It's Alexia speaking now; she's got your hand in hers and the touch brings you back down a little. “The physios will be here soon.”

You reply with a minute nod as that's all you can manage, your cries slowing not out of choice, but exhaustion. The adrenaline had kept you running all game, especially after the clash earlier, but now you had hit a wall, or the ground rather, and everything had come crashing down on top of you. 

Alexia and Ingrid notice your lack of noise and take it as a good sign, both of them shooting a glance at each other before the Norwegian takes the reins.

“Hey.” Ingrid said, her hand sliding from your back to your shoulder in an effort to roll you over, even just a little, so she could properly see your face. “What’s hurting? Something in your leg?”

You gave a pitiful nod, allowing the defender to lay you on your back, but you pulled the collar of your jersey over your eyes in a last attempt to hide away from it all. 

“Is it your hamstring?” Alexia asked, her free hand falling to your hip and stroking the skin available with her thumb where your shirt had been lifted. A final nod from you confirmed Alexia’s worst fears; you had most likely torn your hamstring. The severity of it would determine how long you could be out for, but it wasn’t looking good.

Before she could say anything else, she was surrounded by not only the Barça physios, but the medical team at the ground too, a stretcher placed down just in case behind her. She knew, realistically, you would end up having to use it, but she also knew the mental repercussions it would have for you.

There was a certain way you processed things, and it was obviously different to the majority of the world. In this moment, where you lay in agony on a football pitch, you knew you were injured. But you hadn’t accepted that fact yet, hadn’t processed it or allowed it to be the truth. You could still reject that fate for yourself - hide behind your shirt, try to ignore the medical staff all around you, the concerned looks on everyone’s face, and shut everything out. The second you were transferred to the stretcher, you would have no choice but to come to terms with what had happened to you. 

Alexia knew what you’re feeling now would pale in comparison to how you would certainly feel later that evening. In a hotel room in a different country from home, crutches by your bedside, a compression sleeve tight around your thigh, and ice atop that. Words of condolences fired your way, sorrow present in all the eyes that landed upon you, nevermind the throbbing pain that would persist. Constant reminders you couldn’t escape from would surely ruin you.

You still had time to reject it, pretend it wasn’t your reality. 

“It-it’s not that b-bad.” You tried to argue, abruptly sitting up and wiping your tears before prying people’s hands off of you. “Let me up.”

“No, you can’t get up. Let the doctors do their job first, you don’t want to make anything worse, okay?” Ingrid lightly pushes you to lay back down, only for you to shove her hands away.

“No! I’m fine, I can walk it off. Lea-”

“Cariño, listen to me.” Alexia shuffled up closer, softly holding your face in her hands so that you had no choice but to listen to her. “You are injured. You have torn your hamstring, and it is very dangerous for you to do anything on that leg now. You will make it worse. Listen to us, to the doctors, and let us help. We are all here for you and we are not going anywhere. Please.”

To some, Alexia’s words might come across as blunt and harsh, rather than caring with your best intentions in mind. But she did have your best intentions; the moment required some tough love, if she sugar-coated anything then it would only cause more damage in the long-run.

“It hurts, Ale.” You whimpered, clutching at her forearm as you cried into your other hand.

“I know, lay back and they will give you something for it.” You found comfort in her voice and touch, making you feel safe and secure enough to follow her words and allow the medics to do what they needed.

In the blink of an eye, it seems, you’re in the away team physio room. There’s a lot of hustle and bustle around you, but at the same time you’re alone. No one is holding your hand, no one is reeling off words of reassurance, there’s not a soul at your side. It’s just doctors wanting to get their job done for the day. You had no idea how much of the game was left, so you didn’t even know when you could get a reprieve. 

That horrible feeling of panic was rising through you like a tsunami wave. You felt trapped, claustrophobic, and to top it all off you couldn’t even see a light at the end of the tunnel, whose walls were quickly closing on you. 

Alexia had lied to you. She had said that her and Ingrid were there for you and weren't going anywhere. But nobody was here with you right now. You were alone.

Anytime one of the doctors tried to talk to you, their words weren’t registering. Anytime they tried to put their hands on you, you flinched, only causing you more mental and physical pain. None of them could bridge the gap to help you. And, considering they were doctors, not a single one could see the severity of your emotional distress. It only led to tensions rising as they got antsy and irritated, and you got more and more worked up.

Alone. Trapped. Hurting. Alone.

That mantra circled dangerously around your mind. Alone: nobody was here with you. Trapped: you physically couldn't walk, you didn't know the stadium, and you wouldn't know where to go if you did. Hurting: the doctors hadn't given you any pain relief, Alexia had lied once more. Alone.

Alone, trapped, hurting, a-

Alone only until some time later, the door slammed open, and this time someone in the room did have the right to be angry.

“What is going on in here? Why is no one helping her!?” Mapi cried out, rushing over to where you were borderline hyperventilating into your hands and everybody else stood, watching. “Preciosa, it’s Mapi, I…”

She didn’t know what to do with the state you were in, it wasn’t something she had ever come across before. How could she help you if qualified doctors couldn't? 

You seemed inconsolable and the panic running riot through you slowly began to seep into her, which wouldn’t help either of you. Mapi had no experience with anything of this severity, she'd seen Ingrid have panic attacks before but that was years ago, she hadn't had any in a long time. This didn't seem like a panic attack, and if it was a meltdown, she certainly had never dealt with one of those before. She'd only seen the aftermath of one, and it wasn't even her that had dealt with it.

It felt like all she could do was bide her time and hope that Alexia or Ingrid came in ASAP, but she knew she had to act sooner. By doing what, she wasn't sure. But she had to start somewhere.

“You’re okay, you’re okay.” Her eyes looked frantically around the room, noting that all the people that should be helping you were only staring with exasperated looks on their faces. “Hey, everyone out! Get out!”

They shook their heads as they left, filing out one by one and murmuring between themselves. Meanwhile, your state of mind hadn’t changed and Mapi’s concerns only grew. Cautiously, she tried to take your hands away from your face but somehow your strength was too much for her and they didn’t budge an inch. The worry Mapi felt grew tenfold and soon there was a tremor to her own hands. She felt like time was running out, as if you would implode the longer you spent in this detrimental state.

So, she decided on a different approach.

“Hey, sit up for me, preciosa. Come on, I need you to sit up.” 

To her relief, you followed her instructions easily this time, and she moved you to sit up and swing your legs carefully over the edge of the bed whilst being mindful of your injury. Once in position, Mapi clambered onto the bed and sat behind you, her arms coming up to wrap around your chest and hug you tightly. She had learnt once, from Ingrid, that pressure helped to ease anxiety, and if her assumptions were correct, that was the primary emotion screwing you up right now. 

“There you go, I’m here. Take some breaths now, in and out, it is just me and you.” She kept her embrace tight, baring her weight behind it and rubbing up and down your upper arms in a repetitive, reassuring motion. “We need to slow down, cariño, slow down that breathing. I’ll do it with you, hm?”

For the next minute or so, Mapi took exaggerated breaths behind you in an attempt to ground you, and it worked. At some point along the way, one of your hands had dropped from your face to Mapi’s on your left arm, covering it in a silent gesture of gratitude in a moment where you couldn’t verbalise it. It didn’t take long at all for you to come back to the room, but neither of you moved and instead opted to stay still. This was comforting, it was easy, and it was familiar. 

Even after five minutes had passed by, Mapi didn’t leave. Her next approach was to distract you from all that had happened, and luckily for her she was blessed with a skill that for the first time in her life actually came in handy. Mapi could talk forever, so that’s what she did. She spoke about what she’d gotten up to recently, the newest coffee shop that had opened near the training ground, and somehow she even started relaying memories from her childhood. She spoke about anything and everything, and it worked. 

Finally, you had removed both hands from your face and the tears had finally dried up. You were leaning back against Mapi, head resting on her shoulder as she showed off the many tattoos that were scattered across her hands and up her arms. Your physical pain had taken a backseat for all the mental torment you were going through earlier, but now it was returning in full force. You didn't feel able to talk just yet though, so failed to bring it up.

“You feeling okay now?” Mapi hummed quietly, you nodding somewhat uncertainly a few moments later. She gave a tight-lipped smile and kissed your cheek, tucking her chin over your shoulder and delving the pair of you into silence. There wasn't much else to be said or done.

Not so long after, commotion could be heard down the corridor outside the door and it didn't take a genius to figure out who it was.

“-should be in there, helping her!” The door swung open, revealing a confused Alexia. “Mapi, what's going on?”

“Come in and close the door. Leave them out there for now.” Mapi said calmly, squeezing your hand after sensing you tense up a little.

Alexia did as asked - she closed the door and came over to the pair of you. Her eyes roved all over you, noticing the way Mapi is holding you and how your eyes are red and puffy. She reached a hand out to land comfortingly on your uninjured knee, her thumb stroking the skin there in concern.

“What happened, cariño?” She wondered quietly, frowning at the slight shake of the head you give her.

“I think she had some kind of meltdown or panic attack thing. None of the physios or doctors were helping, they were just stood watching and making her feel worse. I kicked them out and calmed her down, we're okay now.” Mapi explained simply, looking at you as you kept your eyes averted from the woman in front of you and instead fidgeted with your hands.

Alexia blew out sharply, cursing in Catalan under her breath. Mapi can sense she's about to go off on an outraged tangent, so the defender stops her with just a look. The captain deflated immediately, shaking herself out of her frustration and taking a calming deep breath before focusing back on you.

“I'm sorry. I tried to come off with you but they wouldn't let me. I am so sorry.” Alexia said softly, raising a hand to wipe away the lingering tear tracks on your cheek.

“You weren’t here when I needed you.” You mumbled, a deep-set frown on your face that filled Alexia with guilt.

The pair of them share a glance over your shoulder. The captain looks hurt, really hurt, and Mapi can’t quite blame her for that. They understood your discontent, but they didn’t know how deep it ran. They thought it was possibly somewhat misplaced, and your judgement was just a little clouded by the day’s events.

Except, it wasn't.

When you trust someone, and you hand your heart over to them, what may seem to be the slightest mistreatment can lead to the biggest blowouts.

After years and years of discrimination, prejudice, and hatred all directed at your whole being, it's hard to trust people. Hell, only eight months ago did you tell your colleagues about your true self after being a footballer for what, thirteen years? Other people's foul behaviour in the past was not your fault, yet it's only you left facing the repercussions. And the current situation was a perfect example of exactly what that meant for you.

“Cariño, I…” Alexia started, but she quickly trailed off. She didn’t know what to say, where to go from here. She hadn’t really found herself in this scenario before, she was always the first person you came to for comfort, and not only had you had found it from someone else, you were annoyed with her too.

Her hands pulled away from you like she'd been burnt, a notion not lost on you or Mapi.

“Ale really did try, I promise. Jona wouldn't let her sub off.” Mapi tried to tell you, but you stayed silent. She tried to suppress her sigh behind you, but you heard it. Loud and clear.

“You can leave if you want to, Mapi. Thank you for helping me, I really appreciate it.”

You didn't mean for it to sound so apathetic and ungrateful. But that's how it came out. You couldn't change it now.

Mapi instantly pulled away with nothing but a nod, squeezing your hand before getting up and leaving. She gave Alexia an uncertain glance as she walked past her, the taller woman just nodding at her before the defender left. 

It meant the pair of you were left alone now. There was a hushed voice from behind the door, no doubt Mapi lecturing the doctors. That wasn't at the forefront of your mind now, in fact there wasn't really anything you could focus on apart from the way you were acting. You'd treated two of the people dearest to you in an unkind way, yet you couldn't stop.

“I don't get why you weren't here. I don't get how Mapi was the first one to come to me.” You stated, eyebrows raised up in an attempt to act unphased by everything that had gone on. The tremble to your hands and the quiver to your lower lip told Alexia exactly how you were feeling.

“I tried. I really did.” Still, she didn't know what to say. 

“Not hard enough, Alexia.” You looked up at her in what you thought was a disappointed glare, but really it looked forced with layers upon layers of hurt behind it. The use of Alexia’s full name too shouldn't have hurt her as much as it did. “You're the captain. You can bend the rules and get away with it. I mean, if it was the other way around, I'd be there for you in a heartbeat no matter the consequences. So why wasn't it the same for me? I really needed you.”

Despite your best attempts, you couldn't fend off the frown or the tears that forced themselves upon you. Regardless of how you'd acted towards her, Alexia instantly forgave you for it all. She knew, in this second, you were overwhelmed and assigning your anger onto everything in the world because of what it had done to you today. She'd take all the blame if it gave you a release. 

“I didn't want to let anyone down.” Alexia whispered, holding back her own emotions.

“Well, you let me down. In the end.” 

The words just kept tumbling out of you uncontrollably. Of course you knew it wasn't Alexia's fault, she most likely would have been sanctioned after all, but that didn't stop the dam from breaking and unleashing waves of frustration onto everyone. All Alexia could do was nod and take it, and hope that once you had returned to your normal mindset, this would just be water under the bridge. And it would, you already knew you were being quite irrational, but you were too far gone to stop now.

Hastily, the midfielder blinked back the tears in her eyes and reached a hand out to put on your shoulder. That one gesture was what cracked your demeanour; you leaned forward then, resting your forehead against Alexia's stomach and, for the second time that day, letting the tears flow freely from your eyes. Her arms immediately wrapped around your back as she ducked down slightly to place a kiss on your head. She squeezed her own eyes shut, trying once more to keep her cries at bay so she could help you through your own emotions.

Only the sounds of your sniffling could be heard in the otherwise silent room, your tears dampening Alexia’s jersey as she doesn’t move a muscle so she can uphold your peace. Every so often she’ll run her hand up and down your back as a sign that she’s still with you in the moment, even if her words didn’t convey as such. She waits patiently for you to feel able again, knowing that your mental health is so much more important right now than whatever was going on with your leg. In the back of her mind she could guess the physical pain was still high, and the fact that you hadn’t mentioned it once since she walked in was enough cause for concern in itself.

“I want to go home.” You muttered tiredly some minutes later, leaning back to wipe your face with the inside of your shirt.

“I know. The doctors need to check you out first though, and I’ll be right here beside you. I won’t let them do anything you don’t want them to do.” She reassured you.

“But what can they do? Nothing right now. We already know it’s a torn hamstring, so let me get back to the hotel. I know it needs, what, ice and compression? We can sort that easily. I’m tired. And I don’t feel comfortable here. Please, Ale, I need to get out.” You pleaded, looking up at her with bloodshot, teary eyes that near enough split her heart in two. 

She pursed her lips and nodded reluctantly, kissing your temple this time before whispering, “Let me see what I can do.”

—

Turns out, there wasn’t much she could do. The Barcelona staff wouldn’t let you leave without being looked over, so after a minor disagreement and some amendments being made to the staff who would do so, you finally gave in and let them do their job. Just as you expected though, they really didn’t do much but confirm your thoughts. Ice, compression, and rest, before getting scans for it done when you landed back in Spain. 

They were hopeful that it wasn't a full tear and it wouldn't require surgery, but you weren't going to give that hope a home in your heart. Your expectations were the lowest of low, it was the only way to prevent yourself from getting hurt more. After all, it is the hope that kills you.

And now, as you lay on your hotel bed, completely and thoroughly exhausted by everything, you feel helpless. Alexia is going around the room and tidying, her attempt at gaining back control of just something because she feels helpless too, and you're just there watching her. Sleep keeps trying to take over you, but you refuse to let it happen, instead focusing on anything that doesn't involve succumbing to your exhaustion. Because, really, you just want your Ale. But she can't keep still.

“Amor, I can see your eyes drooping, please try to get some sleep.” She comes around to your side of the bed and leans down to kiss your cheek, looking at you both pointedly yet softly.

“Don't want to.” You shook your head, hearing her sigh. “Only if you come to bed.” 

You're itching to comfort her - you were well aware of the emotional discourse you had caused earlier and were desperate to make up for it. 

“You promise? You really need some rest.” You nodded, suppressing a yawn, and saw her smile before giving in.

She had already helped you through a somewhat disjointed night routine before setting you up in bed. There weren't really any comfortable ways for you to sleep tonight apart from on your back, which really wasn't too comfy at all. The compression sleeve was uncomfortably tight and the painkillers you'd taken hadn't really done a thing, nor had the ice earlier. 

So, after quickly getting changed, Alexia slid under the covers and flicked the lights off with the switch by the bed, before moving onto her side and shuffling closer to you. From then on, the room was still and serene. It was the kind of quiet that was audible, it had weight to it that meant it could be felt in the way it settled in the bones of everyone experiencing it, and perhaps that was the catalyst for you. It wasn’t empty, no. Instead, the muffled hum of the world outside the window collided with the combined breaths of you both to make it feel a little too alive. 

To you, the silence was stifling and alarming. For Alexia, she was none the wiser to the sensory torment that was making you feel inexplicably worse. Every essence of the day - your injury, the aftermath, the future, the silence, your guilt - was hammering down on you now. Just like earlier, there was no escape. No reprieve. This was your present, though it didn’t quite feel like a gift, and there was no stopping it. 

There was enough of a gap between you and Alexia to allow the emotions to build. You could feel the warmth from her, but you felt separated by all the words that had gone unsaid by you. They lingered, taunting and menacing, as if you didn’t have enough on your plate already. 

But you didn’t give your girlfriend the credit she deserved. 

When your breaths became slightly stuttered, and your eyes clamped shut a hair too tightly, Alexia sensed it all.

“Cariño?” She whispered, gently cradling your cheek and turning your head towards her. “What's wrong?”

You tried to talk, you really did, but all that came out was yet more stuttered breaths and tears from your aching eyes. Withholding a saddened sigh, Alexia leaned forward to rest her forehead against yours. Her hand on your cheek wiped away any tears that fell and rubbed soothing circles on the wet skin. 

“I'm s-sorry, Ale. I r-really a-am.” You raised a hand to cover your mouth in an attempt to muffle the cries on their way out, but Alexia only shook her head and carefully pulled it away.

“No, cariño, don't apologise. You don't need to say sorry for anything.” Her lips pressed kisses against your nose, cheeks, chin, the corner of your mouth and your temple. She didn't need you to apologise, all she needed was for you to know she would love you no matter the circumstances.

“But I was so, so horrible a-” 

“Shh.” She cut you off gently, leaning your foreheads back together to calm you. Throughout all of this, she still managed to maintain the quietness of the room, somehow making it peaceful and serene like it should have been the first time around. “I understand. You do not need to be sorry, I know how you were feeling earlier and neither me nor Mapi are upset about what you were saying. Just shh, relax.”

You nodded and took in a deep, shuddery breath, clutching her forearm and doing your best to do as she said. Both of you let a few minutes pass by, giving you all the time in the world necessary to calm down, the close proximity and her comforting touch helping you to reach a stable state of mind.

“I just wanted you to know.” You told her in an insecure voice some time later. She smiled and tilted her head up to kiss your forehead once more, holding herself there for a couple seconds to emphasise her adoration. Then she went back to her previous position and looked into your eyes with care and love in her own.

“I do know, I promise.” She stated with such conviction that it didn't leave you with much else choice apart from trusting her wholeheartedly. “I wasn't nice to people around me when I first did my ACL. Mapi was there to see it all, I had to do a lot of grovelling afterwards. When I could move about properly again, she made me clean her whole apartment.” 

At that, you let out a wet laugh, only to suppress another yawn afterwards. Alexia smiled even more, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“You won't make me do that, will you?” It was her turn to laugh now and the sound of it brings a genuine smile to your face. 

“Never.” She hummed. “I know how it feels to get a bad injury and I will never blame you for being upset. I will be here for you every step of the way until you're back on the pitch again, we all will. You're allowed to feel angry, sad, frustrated with the world, or however else you're feeling. It is unfair, but we will get you back.”

“You're sure?” You mumbled a few moments later. With her eyes gazing into yours and her thumb stroking your cheekbone lightly, she nodded. Then, to confirm her affirmation, she leaned forwards that bit more to softly leave a kiss to your lips.

“I am certain.” She murmured when she pulled back, lips brushing against yours. “We will get you there. The team will take us to the final, and you will be walking out onto the grass in Lisbon with not only the club, but the fans behind you too. I swear it.”

Her words were all the motivation you needed. 

They echoed around your mind as you tried to sleep that night, and throughout the whole of the next day. It was tough to cope with, this (albeit temporary) new normal, and you loathed the sympathetic looks on everybody’s faces as they watched you slowly hobble from place to place on crutches. The flight home was a whole other story; for the life of you, you couldn’t get comfy, and in the end you had to sit sideways in your seat to give you the space to rest your leg across the empty middle seat whilst your feet ended up in Alexia’s lap. 

Alexia tried to keep her face composed, knowing the effect everyone else was having on you, but it tore her apart to see the down-trodden frown on your lips and the constant furrow to your brow that conveyed exactly how you were feeling. For the duration of the flight, her eyes hardly left you, constantly checking to see how you were doing without trying to be too overbearing. This wasn’t even the trickiest part of the day, yet it was already proving to be a tough mental challenge.

However, there was one silver lining that came to light. Possibly, it was the best outcome of them all. It wasn’t even Alexia’s injury, but she felt like crying upon hearing the news. Even when she walked you into your apartment later in the evening, there was still an overjoyed smile on her face as the sentence played over and over in her head.

“It’s only a grade two tear, meaning the rehabilitation process will be easier, especially considering you don’t need surgery.” 

On the other hand, you weren’t so positive. No matter the result of the scan, you still had to deal with weeks off from the one constant thing that never failed you. Except, it had failed you this time, to the highest degree so far. It didn’t matter that your comeback might be sooner than you initially thought, time off was still time off. From now on, there would be physio sessions, lonely days in the gym, matches missed, and even with the hard work you would put in, you might still miss the possible Champion’s League final, should your team get there. There was no doubt in your mind that they would get there. To miss a game like that at the peak of your career would irrevocably ruin you in any and all aspects.

Yet, again, Alexia of all people understood this. And the moment that you fully broke down, was the time she understood you the most.

“What if I don’t come back? What if I don’t play the same as I did? There’s no guarantee for anything, Alexia, and I just-”

The anxieties poured out thick and fast, but the captain was there to catch all of them and secure each one in the back of her mind, for when you were ready to tackle each one. She was seated behind you on the sofa, the sky a midnight blue out the window and the only light in your home being the warm white of the lamp in the corner of the room. Her arms were tight around your torso, her chin hooked over your shoulder with her cheek pressing against yours. Each time another sob ripped through you, her hand would be there in an instant to swipe away each individual teardrop and the quiet reassurances in your ear never seemed to end. 

Your emotions subsided eventually, but the strength and security of the blonde behind you never faltered. With your head resting back on her shoulder and your sniffles sounding through the room periodically, she was running through every problem and solution that could come about in the upcoming weeks. Not a single possibility scared her away. She would get you through rehab and to Lisbon if it killed her.

Doubting you and your will-power was something Alexia would never do. In reality, she thought most people underestimated you. There wasn’t a single worry in her mind that you would work harder than anyone to be back for that one match you had dreamed of all your career. And if the team didn’t get there, well… for Alexia, she had never had a bigger motivation than the one in her arms right now.

And when she thought you had exhausted yourself once your sniffles had stopped and your breathing was even again, she voiced all that was on her mind. Just like the night before, her words were everything you could ever need. It was hard to be discouraged about getting your life back on track when such a prominent figure, who had been in a worse situation than you in terms of injuries, was so certain that you were going to get through this blip.

“We will get you back, I’ll make sure of it.” She began in the quietest whisper she could manage, though when her mouth was right beside your ear it wasn’t hard to hear her. “I will not leave your side, min engel, not for one moment. You are the strongest person I know, I’ve told you that before, but it’s true. I thought I knew what it meant to be strong, but you show me a new meaning of it every day I’m with you. I didn’t expect to fall in love with you, but how could I not?” She smiled to herself, flashes of all her favourite memories from the past eight months passing through her mind. “You give me everything I ever dreamed of. Being your girlfriend is the greatest honour of my entire life. Jeg elsker deg, cariño. Siempre.” 

You heard it all. You couldn’t ignore her.

“Since when did you know bits of Norwegian?” You asked her. She stiffened under you, feeling like she had been caught red handed. With a giggle, you sat up and turned the upper half of your body to face her, careful not to jolt your leg. When you looked at her, there was a pink tinge to her cheeks and a small, sheepish smile tugging at her lips. All it took was one teasing grin from you for her to groan and throw her head back against the sofa cushions in embarrassment. 

“I thought you were asleep.” She mumbled from behind her hands that had covered her face, only for you to laugh at her more. “Stoooop.”

Pushing through the pain, you gently flipped to lie on your stomach and, once comfortable, rested your chin on her chest. You gazed up at her almost in awe; it hit you, sometimes, that her love for you ran so much deeper than you’d ever realise. It ran through her veins, it had seeped deep into her bones, and filled her from head to toe. What she showed you on a daily basis was so much more than you could have dreamed of, but if you asked Alexia, she’d say it was only the tip of the iceberg.

“Why did you want to say it when I was sleeping?” You wondered quietly. She took her hands away from her face and looked down at you, her arms moving to rest atop your back.

“I just thought the moment was right.” She shrugged, her sheepish smile from earlier replaced by a soft one.

“You meant all of it?” You asked in a barely intelligible voice. 

“All of it. All of it and more, cariño.” The blonde replied with zero hesitation. “These upcoming weeks, we will just take it step by step, okay?”

“I know. It just worries me.” You sighed, dropping your forehead to her chest. “So much to do. So much I don’t know. I might get re-injured straight after. I don’t want to do it.”

“I understand.” Alexia murmured, ducking her chin down awkwardly to kiss the top of your head. “It will be worth it though. When you come back, you will fall in love with football all over again. You will find joy in the basic things, like just running or doing kick-ups. It changes your perspective on a lot of things. Sometimes these things come our way, no matter how much we don’t want them to, and they change us for the better. You will see.”

—

With this injury, you literally did have to take things step by step. The next day was a recovery day for the rest of the team, and you had to tag along so that you could meet with Jona and the staff about creating a provisional rehab plan for you. Week one was just rest. Nothing else. You were ordered to sit at home all day, waiting for Alexia to come home like a sad puppy. Honestly, that was probably the hardest part to get through.

You were an active person, not a day went by without you doing some kind of exercise or physical activity. Being stuck on the sofa or in bed twenty-four hours of the day was not appealing at all. Rather embarrassingly, when Alexia left for the first day of proper training since the Bayern game, you had watched her leave with tears in your eyes. She would only be gone for a few hours, but knowing your team was working hard for the second leg at the weekend was killing you. 

What you didn’t know though, was that Alexia had already planned the week out for you. 

Ten minutes after she had left on day one, Alba showed up with bags upon bags of stuff. Snacks, face masks, gifts, flowers, your favourite candle, the right equipment for her to give you a manicure, and more. It was hard for your thoughts to be clouded by negativity when the brunette was there to meet each millisecond of a frown with something to take your mind off of it. Whether that was with words or a hug or something else, by the time Alexia got home, you’d had a pretty good day. Upon stepping into your apartment, she dropped her kit bag and slipped off her shoes before joining two of her favourite people on the sofa to watch whatever movie was playing on the TV. Alba tried to push her away to shower, but the blonde just grinned before scooching closer to her sister and wrapping her arm tightly around her. The scene on display before you then was much more interesting than the film, the two bickering for what seemed like forever until Alba eventually had to leave.

On day two, Alba came to visit again, this time bringing her little dog and one of Eli’s home cooked meals for lunch. The day played out much the same as the one before it, but it was still just what you needed to get through this first rough week of recovery. When Alexia got home, her cheeks ached with the smile that grew after spotting you asleep on the sofa with the chihuahua in your arms. Alba rolled her eyes at the lovesick gaze her sister gave, only for Alexia to flick her forehead before carefully laying beside you and wrapping herself around your sleeping body. It took a matter of minutes for her to drift off, and she was less than pleased when she woke up to a plethora of… inappropriate drawings on her face whilst you were left untouched.

The rest of the week went pretty much the same way, until you’d finally gotten through it and, before you knew it, you were seated in the Johan watching the second round of the match-up that had taken you out in the first place. Fortunately for you, the team seemed hungry, and you were treated to a great game of the sport you loved. Even if you were a player for one of the clubs watching, it was thrilling to see both teams fight it out like they did. But ultimately, there was no stopping your blaugrana teammates that day. And Alexia, she seemed reinvigorated. In all the time you had been in Barcelona so far, the Bayern game was the best you’d seen her play so far. She was on another level, and as you clambered your way down to the locker room with your crutches to greet them all, you were swelling with pride.

You’re understandably a little slow when half your body weight relies on two metal sticks, so by the time you’re heading into the locker room, most of the team are already in there after making the rounds with the fans. The music is playing already, each of them buzzing after successfully making it one step closer to the final, but their faces light up even more at the sight of you. They hadn’t seen you in the week that you had been posted up in your flat, so they couldn’t help but cheer as you hobbled in.

“Ahí está!”

Jana smiled brightly at you, instantly walking over to hug you tightly. Others soon followed, and before you knew it, you found yourself at the centre of a group hug that was difficult to partake in when your arms were still hooked into your crutches. You laughed unabashedly at them all and their dramatics, greeting them one by one when they finally broke away. There were still some missing from the room, specifically the one person you were looking for, but you happily chatted along with them and joined in with their celebrations whilst you waited. 

“Back to work next week, sí?” Aitana grinned as you sat down in Alexia’s cubby, nodding up at her with a smile. “We have missed you in training, really!”

“She’s right, Mapi has been getting too big for her boots this week. You need to come back and start humiliating her in practice again.” Keira rolled her eyes with a huff, Aitana laughing beside her. 

“Tell her she should count her days.” You smirked, watching as that very woman strolled into the room with Alexia and Ingrid behind her. 

The three of them came over to you straight away, all with beaming smiles on their faces. Alexia sat down beside you and quickly pecked your cheek, managing to do so without catching the attention of the team members that would mock her. Everyone knew about your relationship, but Alexia didn’t feel like showing her utterly soft side as she would get teased for eternity.

“You guys played really well today.” You told the three of them, Alexia smiling to herself as she untied her laces.

“Almost like it is our job, preciosa.” Mapi poked your shoulder, only to receive an elbow to her side from Ingrid.

“Take the compliment, María.” She said, sending the pair of them off into a playful argument. 

It left you and Alexia somewhat alone, despite being in a room of at least twenty people, but some peace nevertheless. For a minute or two, you observed her silently, watching on as she took a moment of respite for herself after the game. Then, she turned to you, a content smile on her face.

“You okay?” She murmured, putting her hand over yours that rested against the bench.

“Mhm. What about you, player of the match?” 

Alexia rolled her eyes at your affectionate teasing, chuckling quietly. You grinned and bumped your shoulder into hers, resting your head there afterwards.

“Did you enjoy the game?”

“Yes, I loved it. You played so well. Honestly, your best game this season.” You told her, and the blonde woman's smile only grew. She'd been told countless times over her career how good she was, but there was something about you telling her that was just that more meaningful.

“Sí, and you know why?” Mapi butted into the conversation, looking pointedly at Alexia.

“Mapi, no-”

“Ale made the whole pre-game speech about you.” 

You heard a scoff from the woman in question as you sat back up and glanced at her. She had turned her head away slightly, cheeks bright red as Mapi laughed giddily at her reaction.

“Really?” You smiled sheepishly. Mapi decided to run off to the showers at that moment, leaving her friend to explain that one.

“Maybe.” Alexia grumbled, only for her grumpy facade to crack the second she turned back to look at you. “I did. I told the team from now on, in the Champion's League, we play for you. It wasn't about just you. It was about… other things too. But also you.”

“You are so cute, Ale.” You hummed, hearing her groan quietly and shake her head.

“I need to get a restraining order from that diablo.” She huffed. Then, she softened, turned back to you, and whispered, “I did play for you though today. Just for you.”

—

The second leg of the quarter final was luckily on a Saturday, meaning Alexia was freely yours for the Sunday afterwards that had been made a rest day. Thanks to the good amount of rest you (reluctantly) gave your leg, a week onwards it was feeling better than you expected. Alexia still demanded that you used the crutches and she didn’t leave much room for argument, but what you did fight for was the opportunity to actually leave the four walls of your flat properly. Not just for a game, but for actual human social interaction. She agreed, not without a seemingly endless list of do’s and don’ts, but nevertheless she agreed.

It ended up being exactly what you needed. You got back home early afternoon feeling rejuvenated and ready for the first week of rehab that was waiting for you in the Barça gym. Sure, it might have just been a breakfast date at that same spot with the same person as that day all those months ago, and just a sluggish walk around some of your favourite local areas, but it was perfect. 

Despite the ache in your arms and the slight heightened pain in your leg, you lay on the sofa back at your flat with a warmth in your heart, for the first time that week. Alexia found it rather amusing when she walked back into the lounge area to find you smiling to yourself with your eyes shut. Your sofa was pretty small, so when you lay down arm to arm it didn’t leave much space for anyone else. As she didn’t want to disgruntle you, Alexia decided it was best to sit on the floor in front of you instead. She put on the first football game she could find on the TV and watched it whilst picking from the bowl of fruit she had brought in. However, as you dozed off behind her, she couldn’t stop herself from glancing back every so often. Why wouldn’t she take all the time she could to gaze at the person she adored most? It was an easy conclusion for her to come to.

She looked at you with the same eyes as you walked in front of her into the locker room the next day. Even as you both went separate ways after changing, she didn’t dare look away from you until you finally turned the corner, despite it making her a tad late onto the pitch. The dreamy look in her eyes faltered a little, making space for concern, when she met you at the end of the training day and there was a frown on your face. 

“Still have to use this one stupid crutch.” You grumbled when you saw her questioning look as you approached her in the corridor. “And I hardly did anything today apart from listen and stretch and get poked and prodded.”

After only two sentences from yourself, the heart shape returned to her pupils as she nodded in sympathy and wrapped an arm around your shoulders.

“It’s only day one, engel. It will get better, I promise.” She whispered into your hairline, before leaving a kiss there. “Let’s go home and relax. My flat or yours?”

As it turned out, injury rehab was quite difficult. And slow, painfully slow. That first day was barely a drop in the ocean. Perhaps it was Alexia who was the naive one out of the two of you about this whole journey, but nobody could fault her, she just wanted the best for you. Once she took off her rose-tinted glasses, she could see that this was going to be so much more difficult than she initially thought.

The routine difference was hard for you to adjust to, and not only that, but the schedule you were given was susceptible to change at any moment. One second of work could alter every part of the month’s timetable. It was that structural rigidness that had you on edge at all seconds. 

Your temper was inexplicably short, you were snappy and blunt almost all the time, and it was as if one minor thing could trigger a meltdown if it caught you at the wrong moment. You wanted to work hard, yes, but with so much unknown, it was difficult to keep your concentration on the one goal you had. Everything else was getting in the way - your emotions, fears, anxiety, frustration - there were too many distractions. 

And whilst the mask came down around the majority of your teammates, it was Ingrid and Alexia that received the brunt of your uneasiness. Every time you thought things were getting better and you started actually feeling optimistic, something would come along and cruelly knock your confidence right back down.

As the days rolled on, you became more and more exhausted with it all. And that was not what you needed during rehab. 

Keeping up a facade that wasn’t true, forcing a smile that wasn’t there, and feigning determination that was dissipating by the day was so mentally damning. You nearly made it to the end of the week unharmed. Nearly.

“Snuppa, are you awake?” A voice called from outside your bedroom, followed by the third knock so far.

It was the first morning that you were waking up alone since your injury nearly two weeks ago. Apparently, your drained and morose mind was taking full advantage of that.

“Okay, I’m going to come in now, alright?” Ingrid gave it another ten seconds before she opened the door after getting no response. What she walked in on wasn’t so unfamiliar.

You hadn’t gotten out of bed yet. Getting up and facing the day ahead just wasn’t something you wanted to do. Thankfully, this wasn’t the result of a meltdown, but rather months worth of exhaustion built up to burn you out completely. 

“Hey.” Ingrid said quietly, coming to sit on the edge of the bed beside you. “What’s wrong?”

There were a million things you wanted to come out and say, but that wasn’t going to happen right now. Ingrid understood that.

“Do you think you’ll make it out of bed today?” You could answer non-verbally, with simple nods or a shake of your head, and here you just shrugged a shoulder. “Okay. I hear today is supposed to be a good day though, the physios think you can ditch the crutches altogether now.”

Oh. You’d forgotten about that. 

“You know, it doesn’t matter what time you go in. If you’re up to it, you can go in whenever you want, I will sort it with the staff. But if not, that’s okay too. It’s good to have a break every so often.” 

Maybe a compromise could work? Getting rid of the crutch would be a great step in the right direction. But a break also sounds good too. 

“Whatever works best for you, snuppa, we can do.”

It was planned for Ingrid to meet you that morning and take you in anyway, but to be honest you hadn’t expected to do anything but stay in bed, under the guise of darkness and a blanket for the day. A way to protect yourself from the world and all it could do. However, her proposal did sound easier to manage than what was originally planned for the day.

“If it’s too much for you at any time, either me or Alexia will be there to take you home.” She smiled sympathetically down at you, her hand coming up to hold yours that rested on top of the covers. “We just need to work out what’s best for you today.”

That was easier said than done. You did make it out of bed a little while after that, but only to eat breakfast and feel a little more human. At some point, Ingrid had messaged the staff to let them know that neither one of you would be in on time, and that it was currently a work in progress to get in at all. She also sent a text to Alexia too, who had a full morning of meetings before training, but she still somehow managed to blow up Ingrid’s phone a second later. 

Thankfully, you did manage to make it in. It was a challenge, of course it was, but you made it and that was a win in itself. And then the wins kept coming.

You were cleared to walk, cleared to start doing proper exercises and workouts in the gym unlike the boring borderline yoga you'd been doing all week, and the best of all, you were another step closer to being back on a football pitch. That was enough to restore the smile on your face. 

Though, you were still quite burnt out, that couldn't go away with just a bit of good news, so Ingrid had helped you make a plan with the physios over the weekend. The team was due to play on Saturday afternoon, with a day off again for the Sunday after it. Due to it nearing the end of the season where the schedule got more and more packed with high tension games, there were more rest days given to ensure all players were kept healthy, physically and mentally. For you, that meant you could take the whole weekend off without needing to go in for rehab - instead, the staff had given you strengthening exercises to do at home in the hopes that you would be able to somewhat relax and recover before Monday. That was more than okay for you.

Something had caused training to run a bit later that day, so despite your mishap in the morning, you were finished before practice was. So, with your newly restored ability to walk again, you carefully made your way from physio to the pitch. This was the longest you had gone in two weeks without seeing Alexia, and no matter how silly it seemed, you had missed her. 

It didn't take long for the blonde to spot you once you had reached the sidelines, sat on a cooler box watching them all, and her whole aura brightened immediately, as if seeing you with a smile was a weight off her shoulders. All day, she had been silently worried for you, guilty and devastated that she wasn't there in the morning. But now all that was gone, and her lovesick gaze had returned. 

Ten minutes passed before the end was called and the second it did, Alexia was jogging over. She wiped her face with the bottom of her jersey as it was a hot April day, then looked at you with a proud smile.

“Hi, amor.” She beamed, her eyebrows flying up in pleasant surprise at how easy you managed to stand up, unassisted. She gazed at you for a few moments, before gently wrapping you up in a tight embrace.

“Hi, Ale.” You giggled into her shoulder, your arms linking around her neck.

“I am so proud of you.” She whispered before sweetly kissing your cheek. Then she pulled back, her hands raising from your back to your neck as she smiled down at you. “So proud. Of you getting to work this morning, of your hard work. Of everything. So proud.”

You blushed and sheepishly averted your eyes to your shoes, only for Alexia to push your chin back up with her thumbs. 

“Yeah, I get it, you're proud.” You mumbled light-heartedly, watching as she chuckled and nodded.

“I am, would you like to hear me say it again? I am so pro-” You interrupted her by covering her mouth, preventing her from talking. However, she out-strengthed you, so she easily pulled your hand away and shook her head. “I'm proud, and I love you.”

Despite there still being some of your teammates and staff members around, she cupped your cheeks and kissed you fervently. All care flew out the window; she was overflowing with admiration, and she had to make sure you knew it. With the way her lips moved against yours and how her hands held you, it took barely a second for you to become aware of that.

It was a great day, in the end. And though you did need a weekend off like you were given, by the time Monday came around, you were more determined than ever. 

—

From that day onwards, time flew by. Weirdly, a dream scenario occurred. You grew hyperfixated on the progress you were making. Your doctors and the people around you were always there to ensure that it remained a healthy hyperfixation, which it did. Although there were a few situations where others had to gently intervene or check in with you, for the most part you handled your circumstance perfectly. 

You had eventually grown into a comfortable routine that you stuck to by the minute everyday. And with your happiness, came that of others. Alexia was honoured to have a front row seat to it all. Like she had predicted, you had rediscovered joy in the small things, and it was evident to her and the rest of the team when you were lacing your boots up for the first time in weeks whilst sat on the grass. The simple, awfully familiar act had caused a smile to show on your face. 

Your teammates were watching from afar, whilst Alexia and Ingrid were stood beside your trainers and chatting with them about the day’s plan. Today was the day you would be running on the grass again. It was the end of April, and tomorrow, Barça were due to play the second leg of the semi-final against Real Madrid in the capital. Nobody had said it, but they were all thinking it: watching you achieve this milestone was a huge boost in motivation for them to secure a place in the final.

Multiple of them had their phones out to record the moment, and you tried to school the giant smile that was fast on its way to forming when you took your first step of your run. It felt fucking good. A simple bit of running had never given you so much euphoria. There were no aches, no pains, no twinges or discomfort, everything was the same as it used to be. 

Once you had done your first lap of the pitch’s width, you went back to the physios with a shy grin. Ingrid gave Alexia a teasing nudge as the older woman had a certain gloss to her eyes, and she groaned under her breath before blinking suspiciously quick. The pair watched you conversate with the trainers before they gave you the all clear to get started on some basic running drills. 

By then, your other teammates were ordered to start practice, whilst Ingrid and Alexia wormed their way out of it a bit longer so they could be there for you. To your surprise, you grew tired quite quickly, though you supposed over four weeks of no cardio would do that to you. Yet, your leg still had no issues. It would be a bit longer before you went back to proper training, but you would happily take this. Because for now, you felt on top of the world. 

Ingrid and Alexia bid their goodbyes, hugging you and whispering their pride, before jogging away to get to work. On your way into the building for yet more physio, you had to pass the rest of the squad, and of course there was a certain Spaniard that was unable to keep her mouth closed.

“La reina de la reina is back!” She shouted, both arms in the air like a toddler. Your teammates cheered along with her, making it known just how happy they were for you. You laughed at their show of affection, pushing down the bubble of emotions it kicked off inside you. Nowadays, you were almost certain you belonged with them.

Later on, you travelled with them to Madrid, but not before they all congratulated you and made jovial jabs that had you laughing until your stomach ached. Ultimately though, the excitement of it all and the physical exertion had tired you out. Alexia was more than happy to let you sleep on her shoulder for the whole journey through Spain.

You weren’t even playing in the game the next day, but from the moment you stepped foot in the city, you were wracked with nerves. It wasn’t that you didn’t have faith in your team, it was that if for some reason they didn’t get to the final, it would feel like all your hard work was for nothing. Yes, you would be back playing football and it would be an incredible personal achievement, but… the thought kept you up that night. Alexia slept soundly beside you, not a worry in her mind about it, and yet you were so anxious that a deep feeling of nausea set in. 

Travelling on the coach to the ground was the same; that anxiety was still there, and whilst the rest of the team was pretty relaxed about it considering they already had a two goal advantage, your good leg was bouncing up and down rapidly. The blonde captain beside you noticed it when she looked away from her phone and she frowned, knowing it was a common thing you did when you were stressed. Mapi and Ingrid were chattering away between themselves across the table from you, none the wiser thus far.

“Cariño, are you okay?” Alexia asked quietly, her hand landing on your knee and breaking you out of your anxious trance. You gave her a tight-lipped smile and nodded, gulping and looking away afterwards. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

“Just nervous about the game.” You replied with a nonchalant shrug, which caught the attention of the pair in front of you. Mapi cut Alexia off before she could speak.

“Hey, after the final, why don’t we all go on vacation together in Portugal? Ingrid and I went last summer, it was perfect.” She suggested, Ingrid immediately lighting up and nodding excitedly.

“It really was, we should go together.” The taller woman bursted off into a ramble about the place they stayed in, Mapi cutting in every so often. It helped to keep you distracted and Alexia agreed on behalf of you both, the three of them delving into details. 

Despite all that, the second the coach stopped, it all came rushing back. Thankfully, you were going to be sitting on the bench for the game rather than in the stands, though there wasn’t really anything to make you feel better until the final whistle was blown. 

If circumstances were different and you were playing, chances are you probably wouldn't even be half as nervous. As a player, you have a certain amount of control over the outcome. As a fan, there's nothing you can do except watch. And bite your nails, and bounce your leg, and the sorts. Being around the team would surely be better than alone with the fans, so hopefully that would put you somewhat at ease. Yet, even if Barça scored ten goals throughout the game, until that whistle blew, you'd still be on edge.

That being said, the best thing about playing for FC Barcelona is that they're pretty fucking good at their sport. Granted, like Mapi said, it was their job (and yours too of course), but that didn't stop you from being blown away by the talent each player holds.

Being on the field with them is one thing, watching them is another. It's an art form, their style of play, and being in your position on the bench with Irene on one side and Jana on the other, the three of you have your jaws stuck to the ground. The game was flawless on the team’s behalf; zero goals conceded, zero yellow cards, and three goals to go with the two from the last game. Watching Alexia Maradona turn herself out of the triangle of las blancas players she'd been caught in might have been the most attractive thing you had ever seen. The free kick she scored, just like the ones you had seen her do morning after morning, topped that skill move as soon as it went in. 

Moreover, Cata’s triple save in the dying minutes of the game to save her clean sheet really was the cherry on the cake. The referee signalled the end of the game after that, Mapi having taken the ball to the corner flag to let the clock tick down, and you were near enough in tears.

You had made it. You were in the Champion's League final. And with the way you were progressing in rehab, it was looking more and more likely by the day that you would at least get some minutes in the biggest game of your career.

Vicky tugged you up out of your chair and pulled you onto the pitch, where the rest of your team were celebrating. Yes, you were in this team too. That display they'd just put on, you were part of it. The badge on their chests, you wore it too. 

It wasn't a moment of impostor syndrome like it had been in the past. Here, it was a moment of gratitude, disbelief. This was your team, and you were in the final of the most prestigious tournament for club football. 

The younger attacker at your side swung your hands between you both in utter elation as you jogged to the huddle of blaugrana in the centre of the field. You don't know who was where or what was going on, but without a care in the world, you ran up to them and jumped on the back of the first person you could reach. Looking down, you realised it was Esmee, so you hugged her tightly whilst still on her back before jumping down carefully greeting her properly.

For a little while, it was just a heap of bodies, laughing and cheering and dancing to whatever music rang through the stadium’s speakers. However, at some point, you ended up in the middle of the group. And with this team's record, it was only a matter of time.

“Hey, hey, put her down! She's still injured!” Alexia shouted as she ran over from her media duties to find you being thrown in the air by them all. “Dios mío, estáis como una cabra. No usáis el cerebro? Ojalá tuvierais tanto sentido común como talento!” 

“Cálmate, capi! Look how happy she is!” Jana slung an arm around Alexia's shoulders as the pair stood back and observed the chaos ensuing. Alexia huffed and crossed her arms. “You really did play for her, huh? You did it for loooove.”

“Vete al carajo, nena.” Alexia grumbled, leaving her side but not without a quick kiss to her cheek. “Oye, basta! Ahora!”

With you laughing away, the girls finally put you back on the ground as Alexia shoved her way through to you. You were none the wiser to her demands, so the second you saw her, you smiled brightly and went to hug her. The smile was immediately wiped away and replaced with a puzzled frown when her hands clutched your shoulders and her eyes roved up and down your body.

“Did they hurt you? Is your leg okay?” She questioned with a disapproving stare and a flare to her nostrils.

“No, it was just a bit of fun, I-”

“Good. I would have killed them if they reinjured you.” She mumbled, now giving you the hug you wanted in the first place. The tension in her muscles evaporated in your hold, and it was then you knew she wasn't actually angry. “We are in the final, amor.”

“We're in the final.” You echoed in a whisper, pulling back to gaze up at her with a childlike grin that failed to conceal the excitement bursting through you. “We're in the final!”

“Sí, a la final, min engel! Your final!” She met your giddiness with an intensity of her own, taking your hands in hers and intertwining your fingers. You went to step back from her, only for the captain to pull you back in until your noses were touching. Discreetly, hidden by the team around you, she kissed the corner of your mouth, knowing you were mostly out of view of the fans. Then, she moved so that you were cheek to cheek, her lips beside your ear. “That trophy is yours already. And I can't wait to play football with you again.”

The bashful smile you rewarded her sentiment with was far better than any accolade or achievement Alexia could ever get.

—

Life got pretty busy from that day onwards, it was full steam ahead to get the tail end of the season completed. By the end of May, you were back in full team training, and when you had completed your first session, your cheeks ached from smiling. Of course, once it had finished, a number of your teammates decided the best way to celebrate it there and then was to uncap their bottles and spray you down with sports drinks like it was champagne. If anyone asked what the teardrops on your cheeks were from, at least you had an excuse to cover your unwanted expression of joy.

And when the month of May was done and over with, it was time for the last game of your first season in Spain. What a game it was.

Stepping out onto the vibrant green grass in Lisbon for MD-1 training at the stadium was a memory you would treasure forever. Sure, when you were actually playing in the final the next day, that might overshadow it, but nobody could take that first step away from you. 

The plan for the game was that you would be subbed on at any fitting moment from the 60th minute onwards. You didn’t care that it wasn’t a full game, that was ample time to make your mark and stamp your name into the footballing history books. You’d make sure that would happen if it was the last thing you did.

Except, things don’t always go as planned. 

Being 1-0 down at halftime was not how the team wanted it to play out. 

Frustration was written on everybody’s faces as the locker room filled up, wondering how on earth it had gone wrong like it had. With the way the other team was playing, the game plan had to be reworked. And boy, was it. 

It was decided that you would be substituted on at half-time instead. Was it risky? Probably. But the trainers were okay with it, Jona was happy with it, and you were delighted at the change of events. Perhaps you shouldn’t say that to anyone else, considering your team was a goal down, but there was no hiding it. Alexia took one glance at your face and knew you were about to hold the opposition accountable for the tragic mistake they had made. Retribution was to be had, not just against the other side, but you were about to kick off your revenge tour. There was a sense of danger about you when you entered the field, and rightly so.

Within minutes of the second half, Pina scored to equal the scoring. Aitana was there to collect the ball from the back of the net and bring it back to the centre circle to restart the game. It was a one-sided affair from there. 

Barcelona Femení had inflicted damage upon most teams in Europe by now, they had a reputation. Nobody should count them out, put them down, and most of all, underestimate them. With you added to the team, a fatalistic striker that had a deadly right foot, there was no chance that that trophy wasn’t going your way.

A fair amount of pressure was all it took for the other team to crumble. Their legs were tiring as a result of the constant pressing they faced, and their defence was quickly falling apart. A sharp, direct through ball from Caro was everything you needed. One swift strike of the ball later, and the white squares of the net rippled in tandem with the blaugrana fans that decorated most of the stadium. 

Every low of the last two months suddenly didn’t matter when you were running off to one corner of the pitch, every member of your team following behind you. All the difficulties, all the meltdowns, all the sleepless nights, they were worth it. 

Since you had a headstart in the celebrations, you came to a stop just before your teammates did. 

For a split second, it was just you. You and the pride and the relief that pulsed through you at what you had achieved. There were still a number of minutes left of the game, but that didn’t matter. Not once in your life had you ever felt elation like it, you’d bottle it up if you could. Bottle it up, label it, and put it on your living room shelf as a constant, ever-present reminder of your ability. 

Oh wait, you could just use your medal instead.

That moment of awe and wonder was quickly interrupted by twenty screaming bodies crowding around you - the on-field players as well as the substitutes, the staff, and god knows who else. 

At the heart of the huddle? Alexia and yourself, just like it was in Madrid. 

The midfielder was speechless, there was a million things she wanted to say but not one came out. Instead, she simply looked at you with her mouth opening and closing like a goldfish, before you put her out of her misery and jumped into her arms. She caught you with ease, holding you tight to her as your head span on a swivel looking at the thousands of Barça fans all celebrating you. 

Still in the arms of the woman you loved, Mapi grabbed your arm and shook you back and forth in admiration.

“Preciosa, qué coño?!” She bellowed, Alexia laughing as she gazed up at you.

The captain carefully lowered you to the ground, hoping to finally get a word in, when your best friend wrapped her long Scandinavian limbs around you and squealed directly in your ear.

“I am so proud of you, søster! I can’t believe it!” Ingrid stated in one long continuous squeal, squeezing you to death. 

The celebrations carried on probably far longer than they should, but soon you were making your way back to your starting position with Alexia almost glued to your side. When it had all calmed down, some softer emotions settled. Before, it was intense with adrenaline running fast and high. Now, a quiet, content sense of pride and disbelief draped itself, without much commotion, over your heart like a warm blanket. It was such a raw and strong feeling that, rather inconveniently, it brought tears to your eyes.

“Cariño, are you crying?” Alexia asked in an ever so slightly teasing tone. You shoved her away lightly, smiling when she gave a giddy laugh. “Come on, the game isn’t done yet! We might not even win.”

“Alexia!”

Playing the rest of the game after such an emotional high was probably harder than rehab itself. Your legs were about as stable as jelly, and everytime you thought you’d finally willed the tears away, your eyesight glazed over again. 

Evidently, the world was on your side today.

Hearing that whistle blow evoked that same bottled up feeling from before as you fell to your knees in relief. The word ‘surreal’ never felt more fitting than it did as you slumped over onto your back, the sky above you coloured with the pink and orange of Lisbon’s setting sun. Weirdly, there wasn’t much on your mind, it was more of a quiet hum that brought peace, like a distant radio or the pattering of rain against a window. The only thing that stood out to you was the fact you had accomplished the one thing that always seemed to escape you. But not anymore.

It was in this moment where you realised that this dream of yours was never just about achieving your end goal - it was about becoming the person with the strength to get there. This victory isn’t just about what you’ve gained, but who you’ve become. You’ve honoured your potential in a way you never could have imagined, and though the road to get here was long, dark, and uncomfortably bumpy, you were now able to reap the benefits of your determination that had certainly reached new heights. 

There was a phrase you first heard when you were younger: ‘it took a village.’ Back then, you would scrunch your nose up at it, unsure what it meant or what on earth a village had to do with anything. However, now as an adult with a support system that was built on an indestructible foundation of love, you knew that it truly did take a village to thrive. 

It was embedded in human nature since the first generation of life that having a shoulder to cry on and a soul to confide in, as well as people to laugh and share the joys with, were the most important thing anybody could need. Where you might have pushed that away in the past and claimed it wasn’t what you needed, there isn’t a better moment to acknowledge that without that, this moment simply would not have happened.

And when you raise the trophy, with a gold medal around your neck, confetti in your hair, and your newfound family around you, you stand firm in the assurance that you are capable of anything.

—

let me know what you think :) for now at least, this is the last idea i have for this world, if there is anything you wanna see in a story, let me know! i love this world and will never be able to leave it alone, so you are welcome to bombard me with any ideas, big or small. im very very very thankful for all the love this little universe has gotten so thank you for reading it, i couldn't have imagined it would go like this! but it's been one of my favourite things ive done and that is down to all the lovely people reading it. lotta love for you all <3

[dayluxe]

Our little secret - Pedri González

pairing: Pedri González x fem!reader

summary: your boyfriend decides to confirm their relationship after their great Super Cup triumph

warnings: use of the translator, many clichés

w/c: 2.957

a/n: change some things about this request, I also hope you like it @ripmyselfxd

You first met Pedri in Germany, when you and your family went to the Allianz Arena for a match between Bayern Munich and Barcelona. your father was a Barcelona fan, while you and your brother were Bayern fans. everyone had a great time in that game, even though Barcelona lost, your father was still happy to have had the opportunity to see them.

After the final whistle resounded throughout the stadium, and multiple people began to leave, you and your family waited for the players to approach the fans and see if they could get any photos or signatures from them.

your father, seeing how some Barcelona players approached, took the opportunity to ask for photos and signatures, while you watched them pass by. You took a few pictures with them, taking advantage of the opportunity, but when he approached your heart couldn't help but race with excitement.

Her large brown eyes, framed by bushy eyebrows, caught your eye. a smile that gave a tender appearance to his face, squinting his eyes at the same time. His cheeks still red from the match made him look more attractive, and a silly smile grew on your face. He gradually got closer to your place, while your nervousness grew more and more.

When you took the photo you could feel how he gently put his hand on your lower back. You could feel your face getting a little hot, while you tried to hide your nerves with a smile.

Even though he was several meters away from you, you could feel the sensation of his hand on your skin, warm and soft.

for Pedri it had been a rather unfortunate match. The passes he gave did not end in good shots, or were intercepted before reaching another of his teammates. He was frustrated, but he knew he had tried despite all the times his teammates failed. He didn't really want to greet the fans, he felt discouraged but he didn't want to be one of those players who leave the field angry, so he decided to say hello to some. but when he saw you, it was as if a breath of wind had cooled his face.

He saw you there, so happy and smiling. The stadium lights fell on your hair, making you look like you were an angel. your bright and beautiful eyes, full of excitement and joy.

The photos were taken, and even though he was several meters away from you, he couldn't help but direct his gaze towards your stall. admiring your presence and your face, as if I hadn't seen you for about 3 minutes. something about you called to it, as if it were the song of a siren. Several thoughts about asking for your number, or some social network, passed through his mind, but his nervousness always got in the way. He didn't want to raise suspicions, he knew how this was from the media, which made speculations out of minute details, so he told one of the staff men about calling you.

When the man approached you it was unexpected, and suspicious. Because, among the thousands of people who were at that moment, why they were looking for you, and exactly for you. You hesitated to go with him, but after convincing your parents and you, you followed him, and it was a pleasant surprise to meet the handsome player. By this point you felt that it wasn't real, or you were being pranked, or you passed out before you took your picture with him, because nothing made sense.

Reality hit you like a truck when his voice reached your ears, trying to create some talk so that it wouldn't be so awkward. Your eyes examined him, and for the first time you noticed that he was no longer in his team uniform, but was wearing a more casual look. Your gaze swept over his features again, as if you were trying to memorize every outline of him. You mentally scolded yourself for doing that, you sure looked so dumb doing that. At that moment his voice took you out of your little moment of reverie "and what do you say?" you heard him say.

You blinked, coming out of your daydream with him, embarrassed for not having paid attention to him you say "uh, sorry, I didn't hear you" trying not to sound nervous. You didn't want to make a fool of yourself in front of a world-class player, but it was too late for that. He let out a small laugh, and then told you what he had told you. You were speechless, literally.

No coherent sentence could be completed in your brain, and instead, they were a whirlwind of thoughts, repeating over and over again what I had told you. He wanted your number, your number, you couldn't believe it. This must be a dream, I'm sure. It feels like one of those fictional stories. You said to yourself in your mind.

You gave him your number faster than you thought, with trembling hands and a nervous smile on his face. You repeated several times in your head 'I'm sure you look so stupid right now'

Even when you got home you were shocked. You were living every fan's dream and your speech was gone, your ability to think disappeared and not to mention your concentration. You felt like you were about to get fired if you made another mistake in your job, all because of a player.

The first message from him arrived. They spoke naturally, exchanging jokes and anecdotes, which soon became a daily occurrence, like a routine but never boring. He always found a way to make you laugh, either with audios that he sent from time to time, or with photos that he took.

With time the most awaited by both arrived, they would go on a date. a real date.

You tried to look as presentable as possible, arranging your hair and outfit for the occasion. Looking in the mirror encouraged yourself, even though your nerves flowed throughout your body. The appointment was wonderful, Pedri took you through the most beautiful places in the city. you didn't go out too much, so for you these places seemed the most beautiful, your smile did not falter at any time. For each place they passed he shared the memories of the first time he had visited them, laughing about their little adventures. During the short walk they found a small place where they sold different plants and flowers. you told Pedri how you had always wanted to have a flower in your house, you thought they were so beautiful to take care of, but you had never been able to find a place that would sell.

The date ended with a beautiful dinner at a restaurant. You had an incredible time, it was as if you were in a dream. Pedri's presence was wonderful, you don't remember being bored at some point during the day, and you had been blushing with the little compliments he was saying.

For the second date you were surprised to open the door and see him with a plant, more specifically one of your favorite flowers. "You told me that you had never had time to go buy one, so I decided to go for it, isn't it pretty?" he told you with a big smile on his face.

Over the months the relationship blossomed wonderfully. Every day you felt more in love not only with him, but with his essence, with how he was, with his great passion for football and his horrible jokes. You were completely in love, and oh girl, he was too.

On a great night, after getting rid of all his nerves and giving himself thousands of motivational talks, he asked you to be his girlfriend. You couldn't feel as happy as you did that day, and you could swear you saw tears in their eyes when you said yes. The night continued better than ever. Pedri had made you feel in the clouds all along, flattering you and whispering romantic things to you. He gave you small kisses on the back of your hand, while looking at you with those big brown eyes, making you feel more loved than ever.

From that moment on, their relationship went from good to better. Both went out on long walks around the city, always trying to keep their privacy away. Your support in their matches was always there, as long as your job allowed it. you met his teammates one afternoon after a game, he had told you that 'they wanted to meet the one who conquered the heart of his Pepi' to which you laughed "surely they think I'm fictitious, or they think you're too grumpy to have a girlfriend" you told him.

You knew all the memes that came out of him being a 'grumpy' when there is no one he knows around, you knew it more than anyone. He was always embarrassed when you gave him praise, even if it was a little 'you look very handsome today, honey' his cheeks turned a nice red color, and his hands tried to hide his face.

"Please don't offend me like that, we all know you love that I'm grumpy," he told you. You didn't deny it, you loved seeing how he had different facets, and seeing how his face lit up the moment he saw you.

The Super Cup final had been awaited by many fans. it was obvious why, since the fans loved to see how the rivalry between Real Madrid and Barcelona was consolidated. Expectations about a victory for Barça were sky-high, knowing how the result had been between the last match between the two teams, fans expected a good victory for the Catalan team.

"Are you going to the final?" Pedri asked you while they were resting in their living room. His head rested on your lap, and your fingers gently ran through his hair. "I have the day off, luckily for you, so I'll be there to shout for you," you replied, gently kissing his lips. "So you'll wear my shirt that day? Please say yes. No one is going to suspect, you can even act like a crazy fan and I'll give you my autograph, and maybe something else," he told you with amusement in his eyes.

"I don't know, I was thinking of wearing the Gavi shirt, but now I'm doubting my decision," you said with feigned indifference. "what? You must be joking with me, you are a traitorous woman," he replied, emphasizing the 'what'. "And then the dramatic ones are us, little drama queen" you laughed at him, while pinching his cheeks. A little habit that you had become accustomed to doing, it seemed most tender to you when his cheeks blushed and he looked like a little boy.

You were in front of your mirror finishing getting ready. You had arrived about 3 days ago, it had been a surprise for your boyfriend since in reality your vacation started a week before the game but he didn't know it.

The number 8 sweetly adorned your back. You had chosen something simple, you knew a little about the current climate of the country and at that time you appreciated more than ever packing your most comfortable jeans and sneakers.

When you arrived at the stadium you could feel the emotion. Different fans scattered all over the place, happily wearing the jersey of their favorite team.

despite Pedri's multiple attempts to convince you, give you a pass to the private area, you did not allow it. You liked being in the stands, and you always had been, you wouldn't change it for being up there bored without being able to talk to anyone. Finding your seat you headed towards it, looking around you in the meantime.

Excitement flowed through the air as the match began. everyone expectant to see what the result would be like. Luckily for you, you were surrounded by Barça fans, and you wouldn't have to hear the screams of the Merengues.

The stadium erupted in shouts and applause from the white team. The first goal came from Mbappé.

Thousands of frowns and sad faces were seen, which soon turned into big smiles and loud applause thanks to Raphinha. You jumped out of your seat, joining the fans in their celebration. You couldn't help but smile when you saw your boyfriend on the big screen, you had always thought about how handsome he looked during (and after) the games.

The bustle of fans was soon enveloped in happiness and excitement thanks to Barça's great victory. The players, focused big on the screens, laughed and celebrated with the whole team, ecstatic for the good game. Try looking for your boyfriend in the crowd, and when you saw him, a big smile of pride was drawn on your face. You had witnessed the great evolution of his career, and of the team as well. spending days and nights with him venting his worries and expectations.

Remembering all those times he was down, and doubting his abilities were erased by seeing his big smile.

when Pedri heard the final whistle of the match he wanted nothing more than to celebrate with you. that you were by his side, wrapping yourself in his arms and kissing you. Shout to all the people that he is yours, and show off in front of everyone. raise the trophy with you, put the medal around your neck and celebrate until you reach Spain.

He tried to look for you in the audience, failing in the process thanks to all his teammates who came to celebrate and shout.

After the medals proudly adorned his neck, and the trophy had been raised and boasted, he sought you out. Finding yourself looking out over the field confused, you were looking for him.

A whistle pulled you out of your thoughts, and you unconsciously looked straight ahead, finally seeing up close those eyes you love so much. He waved your hand to come to him, and you, confused but excited by him, approached him with difficulty. There were multiple fans around the fence, trying to get his attention.

"You won, my love, you did it" you said when you reached him at the fence "come, come down to celebrate with me" he said "what? we are in public Pedri, I thought that..." you said, leaving in the air what you meant. He understood it, they both understood it. but today Pedri wanted to show you off, to show everyone the person he loves, the person who owns his heart. "What I said doesn't matter, I want you here with me now," he told you, as he continued to gesture for you to come down. When you jumped the fence he caught you in his arms, and you could see him up close after a long time.

his tender smile, his cheeks still flushed from the game, and his eyes.

Oh, his eyes.

They looked at you as if you were the only thing that existed. As if all around you had disappeared and been reduced to just the two of you. you felt hypnotized by him. foolishly in love with him.

and he kissed you. He kissed you as if it were his last kiss in the world, as warm and loving as ever, but for some reason this time he felt so different.

The arms that were on your waist went up to your cheeks, cupping them as if you were something very delicate, like a relic that cares for with all its being. When they separated you still felt stunned by the kiss, you had no words to say.

"You look amazing, my love" he told you, while he tenderly caressed your cheek, his smile remained on his face. "I'm sure I look like a fool right now," you laughed embarrassedly, still not noticing everything that was going on around you. It wasn't until Gavi came running up to you to remember again that you had won.

suddenly your surroundings became louder, more intimidating. The slight handshake took you out of the little mental cloud you had gotten yourself into "you don't have to worry, honey, don't think about it right now" he knew what had been going through your mind, and he didn't want you to think about that nonsense, least of all at that moment. "If you know they'll be talking about this for a long time, right?" you said. You knew all the fuss that was made when players went public with their relationships.

"Let them talk, at the end of the day they don't know anything about us," he told you. His breath brushing your ear, sending a chill down your entire body.

the next day you were both back in Spain, the softness of your boyfriend's bed under you, while some program was playing on television, the faint hum filling the silence.

Your fingers gently ran through the short strands of his hair, both of which were very relaxed. "You know? yesterday after the game I received many notifications on my cell phone, apparently your fans have already found my networks" you told him. "yesterday Fer also sent me many tweets about that, I swear I don't know how they always find everything" he laughed incredulously, sometimes he was afraid of his own fans "but you know that I don't regret anything, right? You are one of the people I love the most and I would not want to have you in secret, you are very beautiful for that, my love" he told you, and then gave you a kiss.

-

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i need to learn how to make shorter stories 😔

[rwshfordgirl]

BAYERN FAN

all the images were taken from pinterest.

request: could you write something about Kenan, where he gets jealous because she's a fan of another German team instead of a Juventus fan. something like the reader wants to go to a match of this team and he spends the whole game with his arms crossed and with a pout paring: kenan yildiz x reader!bayern fan

a/n: i hope you don't give up on me because of how long it takes me to write each fic, it's been really complicated hahaha but it will get better, i promise:) i chose the team since you did not specified, but if you want me to change it i can do it without any problem <3 hope you like it!

requests are open | check here my masterlist

Kenan Yildiz knows very well that he shares the space in his girlfriend's heart with Bayern Munich. A love that passed from father to daughter, you always went to Bayern games and knew that wouldn't change when you started dating the Juventus player.

Kenan respected that, and he knew that if Juventus ever faced Bayern, he would have to see you dressed in the Bavarian team's traditional shirt.

"Please, let's go!" you were almost on your knees begging at the feet of the turkish player.

"No, I don't want to." he grumbled, "You can go alone, I'll stay right here."

"Gosh Kenan, I wish you could experience this with me at least once."

Yildiz snorted, even though he didn't want to go, he didn't want to see you sad and even most, he wouldn't want to see you sad because of something he did. He didn't even know why he was so bothered about going to a football game, it has to do with his profession, right?

But deep down he knows that what bothers him is the fact that he has to see you wearing another team's shirt, with another player's name on the back... As if you didn't care about Juventus as much as you did about Bayern.

"I go."

Kenan said after staying silent for a few seconds, watching your eyes begin to water.

"Don't worry Kenan Yildiz, I won't force you to wear the Bayern jersey." you said before kissing him on the cheek,"Thank you for coming with me."

The smile you gave him made him feel more relieved and sure that he had made a good choice. All to see you happy.

But everything changed in the stadium stands. Kenan was standing there with his arms crossed and pouting, watching you almost jumping for joy seeing men, who weren't him, playing.

"Stop being silly, man." Kenan fought mentally with the voice of his subconscious telling him that he should be very jealous and he was winning, he knew it.

"You know you're my favorite player in the whole world, right?"

You were between getting mad at Kenan for not enjoying the moment with you or just trying to comfort him in some way. Fighting with him will never be the solution to any problem, you know that.

"I like watching you play, wearing your shirt with your name on the back." you whispered in his ear,"I love being your girlfriend."

Kenan instantly relaxed, he looked at you with sad eyes. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay, it happens."

Yildiz's head landed on your shoulder.

"No, I'm being a silly boyfriend, jealous over something silly like that."

"I don't mind, I like this version of yours. I love all your versions, actually." a kiss,"I love you and Bayern."

[adascore]

Fouled Dreams | L. Oberdorf

pairings: lena oberdorf x dutch!reader (+ plays for bayern) / netherlands national team x reader / german national team x dutch!reader

warnings: netherlands losing. crying. swearing. changed some things about the match, but the result is the same. fouls. mentions of bruising and swelling.

author’s: been obsessed with her lately so just had to write something. writing about nations league losses have become my thing I fear :(

masterlist

•••••••

February, 2024

They'd know beforehand that this situation could happen, yet when both their teams lost in the semifinals, it was hard to grasp the reality that one needed to beat the other in order to go to the Olympics in Paris.

Herself and Lena had played plenty of times against each other, with both their respective clubs and national teams.

However, this felt different.

Their previous international meetings had merely been friendlies in preparations for other competitive events like the World Cup a year prior.

This was for a spot at the Olympics.

Y/N had been at the previous edition in Tokyo with the Dutch team, where they had stranded in the quarterfinals against the United States on penalties.

Lena had never played at the Olympic Games, something she greatly wanted to achieve with her German teammates.

Both teams also wanted to redeem themselves after disappointing World Cup exits.

There were many things at stake.

Of course, headlines and articles had been made about how the couple was going to go head-to-head in a very important match for both sides.

Prior to their arrivals at the stadium, they hadn't seen each other for a few weeks. Lena played for Wolfsburg, while Y/N was a striker for Bayern Munich.

Although, Lena's upcoming transfer to Bayern would assure they would only have to miss each other during international breaks.

The young footballers had gotten together about a year prior, all credit to Lynn, Dom and Jill who had played matchmakers.

The distance was difficult at first, but they eventually found a nice balance. It sounded cliche, but communication really is the key to a good relationship.

Y/N was strolling around the pitch with her teammates when the German team appeared in the tunnel.

She didn't notice her girlfriend at first, too occupied in a conversation with Andries and Sherida.

It was Lynn, who so ''sweetly'' screamed for her best friend to ''get her ass over here'' that got her to excuse herself from the discussion with her captain and coach.

''Echte uitslover jij, waar was je nou weer over aan het lullen met hen?'' (''You're a real teacher's pet, what were you bullshitting about this time with them?'') Lynn teased her as she approached her, Lena, Jule and Lea.

Y/N sarcastically smiled at her fellow Dutchwoman. ''Jouw dikke kop!'' (''Your big head!'') She retorted, with Lynn playfully giving her a shove afterwards.

Her eyes lit up once she spotted Lena. Despite the tension of the upcoming match, seeing her face brought a sense of comfort amidst the nerves.

''Hey, everyone.'' Y/N moved to embrace Lea and Jule first, their proximity making them the easiest targets for her initial greetings. She let out an awkward chuckle as she made eye contact with her girlfriend again, but went in for the hug as well.

''Missed you.'' Lena whispered softly, her arms wrapping around her partner's waist in a comforting hold.

''Missed you too.'' Y/N replied, her voice equally gentle.

Their embrace was brief, acutely aware of the prying eyes of the photographers stationed around the field. It wasn't that they were afraid of showing public displays of affection, it was more the discomfort that came with the knowledge that every moment captured on camera would be scrutinized and analyzed by the media and fans alike.

They were far from being a secret- their relationship was an open secret among their teammates and the wider football community. Yet, the constant surveillance felt suffocating at times. So, when they could help it, they kept the PDA to a minimum, opting for subtle gestures and fleeting touches that spoke volumes in their own right.

''My mum and dad are coming tonight.'' Y/N said to Lena, the pair quickly disassociated to their own small bubble.

The German grinned. ''Yeah? That's nice, haven't seen them in a while.'' She replied, her tone warm and genuine.

Y/N nodded, a sense of anticipation building within her at the thought of her parents' arrival. She had a good relationship with her family, they'd been supportive of her love of football from the moment she started and went to almost every game if they could.

''My mum did make a small sign for you, cause she thought you might get upset with her.'' She playfully rolled her eyes at the recalling of her mother sending her a picture of the small poster that said 'Go Lena!'.

Lena chuckled at the mention of her girlfriend's mother's thoughtful gesture, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. ''That's very sweet, I can't wait to see it in person.''

''She's probably gonna want to take a picture of you with it, so you're warned beforehand.'' Y/N laughed, knowing her mother wanted photos of everything and everyone.

''I'll be sure to smile extra wide for the camera then, like this.'' Lena pretended to grin very big, showing off her teeth.

Y/N burst into laughter at her exaggerated pose, her eyes crinkling with amusement. ''Perfect, Obi! Exactly what she wants for a heartwarming photo.'' She teased, mimicking Lena's antics.

''Hey, you two,'' Lynn interrupted their moment, the entire group staring at the couple, ''the loser sleeps on the couch or what?'' The Dutch defender laughed.

Her national teammate mockingly rolled her eyes. ''Lynno, we don't even live in the same place. Idioot dat je bent.'' (''Idiot you are.'') Y/N responded.

Lynn chuckled in response, waving off her friend's playful insult with a dismissive gesture. ''Details, details,'' she replied, a mischievous twinkle in her eye, ''just make sure you've got that couch ready, wherever it may be.''

''I'm sure she has chosen a nice place.'' Lena retorted, chiming in on the banter.

Y/N's mouth gaped dramatically, and her eyes widened, exaggerating her reaction to the playful exchange. ''Actually, since you like breaking ankles, you can just sleep on the floor.''

Lena raised an eyebrow in mock surprise at her girlfriend's response, which drew another round of laughter from the group. ''Oh, I see how it is,'' she teased, ''floor it is, then. I'll bring my sleeping bag.'' She accepted.

She threw her arm around Lena at the feigned sadness over having to bring a sleeping bag, her pout being too cute to not fawn over.

It was a nice moment to have with the group, temporarily forgetting an important match would have to be played a few hours later.

There was a mixed atmosphere in the tunnel as both teams started gathering in a line, familiarizing themselves with their small mascots, who were all looking up at the players with wide-eyed excitement.

The Netherlands' usual captain, Sherida Spitse, had been forced to withdraw from the starting lineup due to a last-minute injury sustained during the warm-up. In her absence, Y/N found herself unexpectedly thrust into the role of captain for the crucial match.

As she entered the tunnel, the weight of the captain's armband felt both familiar and foreign at the same time. While she had stepped into the role of captain before, it had always been in moments of crisis, when Sherida was substituted during a match and Y/N was hastily given the band by one of their teammates.

It was not only a great moment for her, it would be one for her family as well. Though they weren't particularly patriotic, knowing that their daughter had been chosen by the entire Dutch team to lead them out for such an important match filled them with a sense of pride and honor.

Her usual spot in the line would be at the back, next to Lena. It had become almost routine for them to have a small chat before their matches, even when they were with Bayern and Wolfsburg, they were always the last players to enter the stadium.

Y/N held the pennant in her hands tight as she approached her girlfriend, careful to not make a big deal out of it since they were already filming the players as they waited for the officials to walk out.

A small pat on her arm was enough to grab Lena's attention, the German turning her head before a small, but nervous, smile broke out on her face once she noticed who it was.

''Hey, Captain.'' She grinned, her eyes briefly glancing towards where the armband was comfortably wrapped around her partner's bicep.

Y/N smirked once she noticed, but didn't say anything about it. ''Hi,'' she softly said, ''good match, alright? And please, don't break my ankles.'' She teased.

''No promises.'' Lena chuckled, playfully raising her eyebrow.

They shared a final glance before the striker made her way to the front of the line-up, only to be stopped by Dominique. ''Ze gaat sowieso je enkel breken.'' (''No doubt she's going to break your ankle.'') The Dutch defender said, a mischievous look in her eyes.

''Ik weet het.'' (''I know.'') Y/N sighed.

''Dom was right.'' The captain muttered under her breath as she was yet again taking to the ground by one of the German defenders.

It hadn't even been close to half-time yet and the Bayern Munich player had been assaulted from all sides. Funny enough, none of the challenges had been made by Lena- so far at least.

Danielle helped her get up from the ground, quickly checking in. ''I'm fine, Daan.'' Y/N reassured the older player, wiping her knees clean.

The first half proved to be eventful, yet no goals had been made by either side. The goalkeepers were making amazing saves, but both teams had also missed serious chances at scoring the opening goal.

Despite being deployed in Sherida's position as a defensive midfielder, Y/N managed to make an impact in the attacking third. She found herself with two golden opportunities to break the deadlock, however, luck was not on her side as both strikes rattled off the woodwork, denying her the chance to put her team ahead.

The opening minute of the second half was marked by a somewhat surprising moment:

Lena fouled Y/N.

The referee blew the whistle, signaling the late challenge made by the midfielder. Y/N, with a dramatic flair, collapsed to the ground, clutching her leg in feigned agony.

Recognizing the playful nature of the moment, Lena quickly understood that she was only hamming it up for the sake of a breather for her teammates and to ruin the Germans' momentum. However, she still bent down beside her girlfriend.

''You shouldn't go into acting anytime soon.'' Lena chuckled, briefly letting her hand caress over the part that 'allegedly' hurt so bad.

The captain let out a small smile. ''That's mean, you should get a yellow card for descent.''

The midfielder's eyes sparked with amusement as she helped her back up to her feet. ''Maybe later.'' She quipped, playfully nudging her girlfriend's shoulder before they resumed their positions on the field.

It didn't take too long for the fun to be over as Klara put in the first goal of the night, which had been assisted by Lena. About 10 minutes later, another Bayern teammate put one in the back of the net as Lea also got herself on the scoresheet.

As the game wore on, Y/N became increasingly determined to make a difference on the field. However, despite her best efforts, none of her attempts seemed to find the back of the net. Her teammates were not clinical enough, or the shots were deflected by the German defenders.

The more attacks she created, the more aggressive the fouls of the German grew on her.

They seemed determined to shut down Y/N's advances by any means necessary, resorting to increasingly rough challenges to disrupt her rhythm.

She managed to keep the ball from Nüsken, and send a pass to Esmee when a German player made a reckless tackle from behind, catching her off guard. The force of the challenge sent her crashing to the ground, a sharp pain shooting through her ankle.

A wave of concern washed over the stadium and the Dutch team as they watched their most vital player of the evening being abruptly taken out by Giulia.

People close to her rushed to her side, including Giulia who didn't have the intention to actually hurt her Bayern teammate. The referee swiftly intervened, issuing a yellow card.

''Shit, I'm sorry- didn't time it well.'' The midfielder apologized immediately, knowing right away it wasn't a great or necessary challenge.

Y/N made a gesture with her hand, which translated to ''it's okay, just give me space now,'' which Giulia understood, the pair having a great relationship at Bayern.

Lynn was the first of her teammates to reach her, shouting profanities at Giulia and the referee for letting the fouls on her best friend get to the point where she needed the medical team.

''Alles goed, meid?'' (''Everything okay, girlie?'') The Wolfsburg defender asked, concern etched on her face.

''Ik denk dat me enkel er elk moment gaat afvallen.'' (''I think my ankle is going to fall off at any moment.'') She sarcastically replied, rolling her eyes.

Lynn chuckled at her friend's attempt at humor, though the worry still lingered in her eyes. ''Ik hoop van niet, we hebben die nog nodig.'' (''I hope it doesn't, we still need it.'').

Meanwhile, the medical team arrived, quickly assessing Y/N's ankle to determine the extent of the injury. The other players quickly backed off so the staff could work in peace.

Lena noticed her club teammate's concerned expression and approached her quietly. ''How's she doing?'' She asked softly, her eyes flickering toward Y/N, whose ankle was covered in bruises.

Lynn sighed, her hand smoothing down her hair. ''I think she's trying to make it out as if she isn't bothered by it, but it's obvious it hurts- look at it, completely blue.'' The Dutchwoman motioned towards where one of the physios was icing her foot.

The midfielder nodded. ''I hope it's nothing too serious.'' She observed the way her partner was hissing at the way the staff was assessing her ankle, visibly agitated by the pain. She wished she could do more to help, but all she could do for now was offer her support from the sidelines.

The Dutch team held their breath as Y/N gingerly tested her weight on her injured ankle, her expression a mix of determination and discomfort. Every eye on the sideline was fixed on her, silently praying that she would be able to continue.

''As soon as the match is done, you're coming with us to the medical room. I'm surprised you can walk still.'' Their physiotherapist ordered her, glancing down at her iced and taped up ankle.

Andries sent her a thumbs up, asking if she was okay to continue. However, Y/N knew they had used up all their substitutes so there would be no use in forfeiting the game, so she confirmed with a nod that she would carry on.

She could walk on her own to the side of the pitch, though there was a limp in her step. The striker carefully jogged onto the grass as the referee gave her permission to join the match again.

A few tense minutes later, the shrill sound of the referee's whistle pierced the air, signaling the end of the match.

Amidst the disappointment of the Dutch team, the German players erupted into jubilant celebrations. They hugged each other tightly, their faces beaming with joy and relief as they reveled in their hard-earned victory.

The Oranje Leeuwinnen on the pitch dejectedly gave each other hugs and consolations, most with tears in their eyes.

Y/N had lowered herself onto the ice-cold grass, the throbbing pain in her ankle too much to bear. She winced as she cautiously propped herself up against the turf.

She suddenly felt two pairs of arms slip beneath hers, lifting her gently off the ground. Startled, she looked up to see Esmee and Kerstin, their expressions filled with concern as they looked at their captain.

''Kom op, meid,'' (''Come on, girl,') Kerstin gently said, ''je was echt een beest op dat middenveld.'' (''You really were a beast in the midfield.'') The Manchester City player chuckled, trying to lighten up the somber mood.

Esmee nodded in agreement, her grip firm yet gentle as she supported Y/N's weight. The two youngsters guided her towards the waiting medical staff, who had been watching the scene unfold from the sidelines.

Some of their teammates and staff patted their heads and ruffled their hair as they walked across the pitch, offering words of sweet nothingness.

With a reassuring nod from the physiotherapist, Esmee and Kerstin carefully lowered her onto the stretcher, ensuring she was comfortable before the medical team began to carry her inside the stadium for further examination.

The injured player could hear the applause from the bystanders, but it wasn't much solace as the pain and disappointment hit her like a truck. Unable to hold back her emotions any longer, Y/N felt a sob escape her lips, the sound muffled by her hands as she covered her face.

The staff of the Dutch team carrying the stretcher watched with downcast eyes, feeling for the young player who had literally given her body and soul this match.

After what seemed like an eternity of navigating the labyrinthine corridors of the stadium, they finally reached the treatment room. With practiced efficiency, they set to work assessing Y/N's injury, carefully removing her shoe and sock to examine her blue ankle.

As the physiotherapists administered treatment, taping up her ankle and applying ice packs to reduce the swelling, the striker remained silent, lost in her thoughts and emotions.

Once her ankle was securely taped and she was given the green light to proceed, Y/N wasted no time in making her way back to the pitch. The pain was barely noticeable anymore as she walked with quickness in her strides, simply wanting to be with her team.

Surprisingly, the German and Dutch players were still exchanging handshakes with one another, acknowledging each other's efforts or catching up with teammates.

The Dutch captain delicately walked onto the pitch again going for the officials who stood in the center of the big field. On her way there, she shook hands or gave hugs with either her national teammates or club teammates, each of them praising her performance of the night- though the striker didn't feel deserving of it.

With a firm handshake and a nod of acknowledgment, she greeted the officials. One of them had asked about her injury, but the player assured her that she was alright. With a suppressed smile, she turned away from them.

''Y/N…'' She heard a voice next to her, immediately recognizing whose it was.

The Dutch striker tried to beam the best she could, a strained grin plastered on her face. ''Hey.''

Lena hesitantly motioned for a hug, not confident in how to handle the situation. Her girlfriend nodded, opening her arms, and welcoming each other in an embrace in the center of the pitch.

''I know it doesn't look like I am, but I am very happy for you and the girls.'' Y/N mumbled into Lena's neck, her voice thick with emotion as she fought to hold back her tears.

The German midfielder brushed her fingers gently through her hair, a soft sigh escaping her lips. ''Danke,'' (''Thank you,'') she whispered in response, her voice quiet but filled with gratitude. ''I know you're happy for us, you don't need to say it.''

Their embrace lingered for a moment longer, each reluctant to let go. But eventually, they pulled back, their eyes meeting in a silent exchange.

''How's your ankle?'' Lena asked, discreetly peeking at her girlfriend's taped up ankle.

The Dutchwoman shrugged her shoulders. ''It's just very bruised, that's it,'' she dismissed, ''you played really well- nice assist, by the way.'' Y/N changed the subject, not wanting to linger on the topic of her physical well-being.

Lena's cheeks flushed at the compliment. ''Thank you. I meant to score, though.''

The German glanced around the stadium, scanning the crowd. ''Where are your parents sitting?'' She asked.

Y/N pointed towards a section of the stands where her parents were seated, their faces alight with pride and excitement as they waved to them from the crowd. The couple happily waved back at them, Lena lightly chuckling at the poster that her girlfriend's father hastily pulled out of his wife's bag, motioning it around for Lena to see.

''They're so sweet.'' She remarked, her voice filled with affection as she glanced back at Y/N. But as Lena turned her gaze back to her girlfriend, she noticed a sudden shift in her demeanor.

As Y/N watched her family in the stands, a flood of emotions washed over her. She felt a lump form in her throat as she took in the sight of them, their smiles radiating nothing but support for their daughter and her national team. However, it was once she glanced down at the fans around them, downed in orange decorations and clothing, that her true feelings about the outcome of the match came to the surface. The sea of orange seemed to mock her, a painful reminder of the missed opportunities and shattered dreams that had taken place tonight.

The team had fought tooth and nail to simply make it out of the group stages, the late drama at the match against Belgium had filled the squad with newfound confidence and resilience. They'd come so close to their ticket to the Olympics, it was practically in their hands before it had been taken away from them and ripped in millions of pieces.

She couldn't help but feel a sense of profound loss. The weight of the defeat lied heavily on her, feeling somewhat the most responsible for the defeat, as if she had been the only player on her team. Deep down, Y/N knew this was far from the truth- football was a team effort, and their loss was a collective outcome. But the pressure she had felt was immense, spurred on by the absence of key players like Jill, Victoria, and Vivianne.

In the eyes of the Dutch media, Y/N had been hailed as the team's ''saving angel,'' a title that now felt like a heavy burden on her shoulders. She had been the one to step up in critical moments, delivering crucial assists and last-minute goals that had propelled the Netherlands to victory in the past. But tonight, she couldn't replicate that success- something she feared she would be crucified for by the fans and pundits.

Lena's heart ached at the sight of her girlfriend's distress, the lines of worry etched into her brow as she struggled to maintain her composure.

With a gentle touch, she reached out to Y/N, her fingers lightly brushing against her arm as she offered silent support. Lena understood right away what she was thinking as she watched her observe the crowd, it's what she had felt at the World Cup, it's what she had felt when Wolfsburg were knocked out of the Champions League.

Utter and complete disappointment.

''Hey,'' Lena murmured, her voice barely above a whisper as she sought to break through the walls of self-doubt that surrounded Y/N, ''it's okay, you did well.'' She comforted as she pulled her into another embrace, her arms caressing the Dutchwoman's back.

Y/N buried her face against Lena's shoulder, her tears soaking into the fabric of her jersey as she clung to her girlfriend's warmth. ''I wanted it so badly,'' she admitted, ''and I played so fucking bad, missed so many sitters.''

It was frustrating for Lena to hear, especially since her partner was easily one of the best players on the field tonight, and was the sole reason the Netherlands were still in the game the entire match. ''Do you know how hard you made it for us? You kept taking the ball from me.'' She tried to convince her, her voice resolute.

Y/N sniffled, her breath hitching as she struggled to hold back her tears. ''But I could have- I should have done so much better.'' She lamented, her voice muffled against Lena's shoulder.

Lena pulled back slightly, cupping Y/N's face in her hands so she could look into her eyes. ''You did everything you could,'' the midfielder reassured her, her gaze unwavering, ''you were playing out of your position the entire time, you were constantly creating chances for yourself and for your teammates, you were my player of the match- and I'm not just saying that,'' she interrupted herself before her girlfriend could, ''you're a phenomenal player, and I was so proud watching you tonight.''

Y/N's eyes widened with surprise and disbelief at Lena's words. She had been so consumed by her own self-criticism that she hadn't realized how much her partner valued and appreciated her efforts on the field.

She wrapped her arms around her, giving a swift peck on the cheek. ''Love you.''

''Love you too.'' Lena reciprocated, landing a kiss on her girlfriend's cheek as well.

The Dutchwoman glanced to her side, seeing the German team starting to form a huddle with one another. ''Obi,'' she caught Lena's attention, signaling towards her teammates, ''go and celebrate, we'll talk tomorrow, alright?''

As Lena hesitated, Y/N gave her an encouraging smile. ''Seriously, go join them, you're going to Olympics, have fun with them. I'm gonna be mad if you don't.''

''Okay, but we face time tomorrow?'' The young midfielder asked, needing the reassurance.

Y/N chuckled softly, touched by her partner's concern. ''We will. Now go, and party- oh my God.''

With a final nod of understanding, Lena gave her girlfriend's hand a gentle squeeze before reluctantly turning to join the German team in their huddle.

As Y/N watched her disappear into the celebratory chaos, a bittersweet smile touched her lips. She could see her own team waiting for her, already standing in a circle.

She took the spot next to her best friend, as Lynn made space for her to join.

A slight grimace crossed her face as the entire team listened to Andries, prompting the defender next to her to furrow her eyebrows. ''Je enkel?'' (''Your ankle?'') She asked.

With a wry smile, Y/N shook her head. ''Nee, de rugpijn die ik ga hebben na het slapen op de grond.'' (''No, the back pain I'll be having after sleeping on the floor.'') She responded, a teasing smirk on her face.

lena requests are always welcome!

[wallpapers4screen]

[alexbkrieger13]

https://www.dr.dk/sporten/fodbold/kvindelandsholdet/harder-inden-landskamp-mod-kaeresten-jeg-maa-ikke-lave-tunnel-paa

some P media 😅

Harder before international match against girlfriend: 'I'm not allowed to nutmeg her'

Tonight, the women's national football team plays its first match in the Nations League, where Sweden is the opponent.

Today at 07:19

If you are in a relationship where you are each other's opponents, you will probably be recommended to go to couples therapy.

To handle the conflict.

To tell each other how you feel when the other person does this and that.

The Danish national team captain, Pernille Harder, and her girlfriend, Magdalena Eriksson, hardly have time for that when they are each other's opponents in the Uefa Nations League tonight.

Pernille Harder in the Danish attack. Magdalena Eriksson in the Swedish central defense. The fight for important points in the Nations League and the bragging rights in the relationship.

The pair currently compete for the same logo on their Bayern Munich shirts. They have also previously played together in Swedish Linköpings FC and English Chelsea. The last time the two footballers faced each other in an international match was five years ago. Here, Denmark and Harder won 2-1.

- We've been in this situation before. But we're professionals, and we always go all-in when we meet each other.

Even though the couple shares a living room, Pernille Harder absolutely does not expect Magdalena Eriksson to hold back or spare her in order to maintain peace in the house.

- It's the opposite. She would rather go harder on me to show that she is absolutely not affected by playing against me, says the national team striker.

The fight between attacker and defender to get to the ball first can often resemble a wrestling match. Pushes in the back, shirt-ripping and biting tricks. That could also be the case tonight, predicts Pernille Harder.

- I know how she plays. Very hard and direct. She could easily give me a wooden leg. She definitely won't hold back. So I'll see if I can get around her quickly instead.

Pernille Harder says that the couple is in constant contact with each other, even though they are preparing for the meeting in separate camps. While the national teams' tactics are kept secret, Pernille Harder has received an order from her girlfriend.

- She has said that I am not allowed to make a nutmeg on her, but now we will have to see. If there is a possibility, I may do it anyway, says Pernille Harder.

The two national team players, who have been a couple for over ten years, must get used to the idea of ​​being each other's opponents.

In the next six months, Denmark and Sweden will meet each other three times. Twice in the Nations League group stage and once at this summer's European Championship, where the two neighboring countries will fight for further advancement in the group stage.

Whether it will be tunnels and wooden thighs, we will find out at 7:15 pm tonight, when Pernille Harder and the rest of the Danish women's national football team meet Sweden at Odense Stadium.

[jade4956]

Goodbye

On the day of her departure, Tahlia Bliss stood in the center of Stamford Bridge, a place that had been her home for so long. The pitch was empty, the stadium quiet, but her heart felt full, almost as if it were ready to burst. Her teammates had gathered for a final ceremony, a tribute to her legacy at Chelsea, and as the crowd of Arsenal and Chelsea fans began to file in for the match, the tension and emotion of the moment weighed heavily on her.

Chelsea had been a part of Tahlia’s life for so long. She had joined the team at just 12 years old, and now, at 25, it was the end of an era. The news had just come out a few weeks ago: Tahlia Bliss, Chelsea’s star midfielder, was leaving for Bayern Munich. The fans had been devastated when they found out, the shock settling over Stamford Bridge like a cloud. No one had seen it coming—not the fans, not even some of her closest teammates. But the deal had been signed. Tahlia was moving on.

She had scored 54 goals for Chelsea, earned 133 caps, and was an undeniable force on the pitch. She had carried the team through countless high-pressure moments, lifting them to glory and bringing pride to the club. And yet, today, as she stood there, it was hard to believe it was all coming to an end.

The crowd slowly started to settle in, and as the teams walked out, Tahlia couldn’t help but glance at the stands. The Chelsea fans were holding up banners and waving scarves, their faces filled with sadness but also appreciation. Even the Arsenal fans were joining in, showing their respect for the player who had given so much to the game. The atmosphere was surreal, and as the game kicked off, Tahlia felt the weight of it all.

The first half was tight, both teams pushing for control, but Chelsea had the advantage. Tahlia’s presence was everywhere—her footwork, her determination, her drive. Then, as the second half began, with the score tied at 1-1, Tahlia found herself in a familiar position: a penalty box scramble, the ball at her feet, and an opportunity to make her mark one last time. With a deft touch, she took the shot, sending it past the Arsenal goalkeeper and into the back of the net.

The stadium erupted in celebration. The Chelsea fans roared, while her teammates rushed to surround her. It was the final goal she would score for the club, a fitting tribute to her legacy. As she celebrated with her teammates, a deep sense of fulfillment washed over her. This was it, the last time she would score for Chelsea, the final time she would wear the blue kit in a competitive match. But even in that moment of triumph, there was a bitter sweetness that threatened to choke her up.

The final whistle blew, signaling Chelsea’s 2-1 victory over Arsenal. The crowd’s cheers were deafening, but they didn’t drown out the ache in Tahlia’s heart. She had won the game, had helped her team achieve another victory, but the reality of what was coming next hit her like a tidal wave. She was leaving.

As the players walked off the pitch, Chelsea’s manager, Sonia Bompastor, stopped the team for a moment of recognition. The crowd’s noise died down, and the atmosphere shifted into something more solemn.

Sonia stood before Tahlia, her voice thick with emotion as she spoke. “Tahlia, you’ve been a cornerstone of this club for so many years. I didn’t know you as long as some of your teammates, but it didn’t take long to understand the kind of player and person you are. You will always have a place here. Chelsea will always be your home.”

The words were simple, but they carried so much weight. Tahlia tried to hold it together, but she couldn’t stop the tears from welling up in her eyes. She nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat.

One by one, her teammates came forward to offer their own words. Sam Kerr her closest friend on the team, gave her a tight hug. “You’ve always been the heart of this team,” Sam said, her voice barely a whisper. “I’m going to miss you so much.”

Millie Bright was next, her normally cheerful face serious as she placed a hand on Tahlia’s shoulder. “You made me a better player, Tahlia. Don’t ever forget that.”

The final tribute came from Leah Williamson, who had been with Tahlia for so many years in England and her rival on the pitch, shared a deep bond. Leah’s eyes were glassy, her voice barely holding steady as she said, “I’m proud of everything you’ve achieved here. You’ve set the bar high for all of us. I know we’ll be seeing you on the pitch again, but it won’t be the same without you here.”

As the ceremony concluded, the Chelsea fans stood and clapped. Even the Arsenal fans joined in. Posters of Tahlia held high, jerseys draped over shoulders, everyone was acknowledging her impact. It was a bittersweet moment, and Tahlia couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed by it all.

After the final match, Tahlia made her way to the dressing room, where she was greeted by her teammates. The air was thick with the weight of their farewell, and though the mood was full of gratitude, there was a palpable sadness.

In the days that followed, Tahlia’s teammates began to help her pack up her things. It was a slow process, each item she packed was a reminder that her time at Chelsea was truly over. It was hard to even fathom. The house she had lived in for so long, with its familiar smells, its comforting presence, was now emptying out.

Sam Kerr and Niamh Charles arrived to help. The two were cheerful but careful, aware of how emotional this time was for their teammate. “We’ve all seen how much you’ve given to Chelsea,” Niamh said quietly. “It’s hard to see you go, but we all know you’ve earned this next chapter.”

Tahlia smiled faintly, but it didn’t reach her eyes. Packing her things felt so final. Each jersey folded, each piece of memorabilia that had been collected over the years, was another reminder that she was walking away from this chapter of her life. The teammates who had become her second family, the fans who had adored her, the memories that would stay with her forever, it was all coming to an end.

The hardest part came on the day she was to leave. Niamh Charles had volunteered to take her to the airport, and as the two of them loaded Tahlia’s things into the car, there was an unspoken understanding that this was truly it. “It’s not going to be the same without you here,” Niamh said softly as they drove. “But I know you’ll do great things at Bayern.”

Tahlia didn’t respond at first, instead staring out the window as the city passed by. She wasn’t sure she could talk about it without breaking down. But as they reached the airport, the reality hit her. She was leaving Chelsea, leaving everything behind.

They stood at the terminal, Tahlia’s suitcase beside her, both girls standing in silence. Then Niamh, unable to hold it in anymore, pulled Tahlia into a tight hug. “I’m going to miss you so much,” she whispered. “You’ve been my best friend here.”

Tahlia’s voice cracked as she replied, “I’ll miss you too.”

After a few moments, Niamh reluctantly let go, her eyes wet with unshed tears. “Go on. You’ve got this.”

Tahlia wiped her eyes quickly, taking a deep breath. She turned to walk toward security, but just before she reached the gate, she turned back and waved at Niamh one last time.

“See you soon,” Tahlia said, her voice thick.

“See you soon,” Niamh echoed, though neither of them truly believed that just yet.

With a final glance over her shoulder, Tahlia walked to board the plane, feeling the weight of it all. The roar of the crowd, the teammates who had become her family, the love she had for this club, it would always be with her, no matter where she went. Chelsea would always be home.

And with that, Tahlia Bliss boarded the plane, leaving behind a chapter of her life and stepping into the next. The future was unknown, but it was hers to make.

—————————————————————————

ONCE A BLUE ALWAYS A BLUE guys she’s not playing for Chelsea anymore I’m sorry. I hope you liked my my fic and now I can update my page for Tahlia Bliss Universe. Requests and Asks are open btw

[woso-dreamzzz]

Champion

Alessia Russo x Reader

Summary: You're riding a high and make sure to keep it going

The minutes on the clock were ticking down and you shifted on your feet.

Everything depended on this match and with Bayern Munich only up by one goal, it was up to you to make sure it stayed that way.

You hadn't had much to do during the first half but, after an early goal from Georgia in the second half, Lyon had begun to put on the pressure. You knew that you had certainly lucked out with your Champions League fixtures this year, with Lyon knocking out Barcelona in their semifinal match so you didn't have to go up against Bonmati, Guijarro and Putellas (who all frankly scared you to pieces) but by no means, was this final an easy match.

Twelve minutes of extra time had been added after Pernille went down with a calf injury halfway through the current half.

Your heart pounded as you watched a quick one-two from Van De Donk to Horan, who immediately began to sprint up the wing. You readied yourself in your box as there was a quick pass to Hegerberg, who slipped between your defenders and took a shot.

You grabbed it from the air, the power from the kick almost taking the breath out of you.

"Come on!" You yelled out your joy," Come on! Try me! I dare you!"

The Munich supporters went wild at your save and you spared a look up at the big screen that showed the friends and family box. Your parents were going wild but your focus was on your girlfriend.

Alessia was jumping up and down, screaming in joy. She looked absolutely stunning in your keeper kit and you had to tear your eyes away from her to roll the ball to Magda.

Your high from the save didn't last long when, seconds before extra time ended Lyon was awarded a penalty after Tuva took down someone in the box.

Hegerberg came to take it, looking at you with eyes that promised that she wouldn't miss like last time.

Your throat bobbed for a moment before you took your position on your line.

You knew that match was over the moment the ball left her foot. You couldn't explain how or why you knew, you just did.

The ball soared towards the top left corner and you leapt for it, stretching up before your glove curled around it and came to secure it to your chest.

The stadium erupted into cheers as you celebrated, running from your goal with the ball before booting it clear across the pitch.

You felt Georgia at your back, crashing into you before getting dog-piled by everyone.

It took a while to be released but, when you did, you didn't wait around to celebrate more. You passed Georgia, who had slipped onto the bench and pressed something very familiar into your hand, and headed with a single-minded purpose to the stands.

Fans called your name but you did nothing but give them smiles and waves before you finally came to a stop in front of your favourite fan.

Alessia smiled at you, cupping your tear-stained cheeks as emotions overwhelmed your body. "Hi, baby. That was a good game."

You nodded mutely before tugging off your gloves, throwing them aimlessly into the crowd before wrapping your arms around Lessi's waist and pulling her onto the pitch.

You both fell back at the action, lying on the pitch before bursting into laughter.

The fans screamed when you kissed, remaining where you had fallen with no concern in the world.

"My baby," She said fondly as she pressed another kiss to your lips," Best keeper in the Champions League. Congrats on your clean sheet."

You laughed, riding your high of adrenaline with pride. "What can I say?" You teased," Safest hands in the league too."

"You're silly," She said when you finally rose to your feet.

Celebrations were still going on around you as the officials rushed to set up the stage for the medal ceremony but nothing could quite compare to the woman in front of you.

"I'm very silly," You agreed," But you love me for it?"

"I love you for everything you do." Alessia grinned at you.

"Then I hope you'll love me for what I'm about to do now." You dropped down onto your knee and revealed the ring box Georgia had pressed into your hand earlier. "Alessia, I may have just won the Champions League but there's only one thing I want right now. Make me be the happiest person here...Marry me?"

Alessia didn't even reply to you. She grabbed you by the front of your jersey and tugged you towards her, crashing your lips together and resting your foreheads against each other.

"Was that a yes?" You laughed even as you slowly slid the ring onto her finger.

Her hand dipped into her pocket and pulled out her own ring box. "What do you think?"

[yeeterthek33per]

Kidding? (Glódís Viggósdóttir x Reader)

A/n I was inspired by recent events. Also, yes, I am still writing, I promise. Apologies that this one is a little short.

Warnings: google translated Íslenska, a little more than suggestive.

----

It seemed too easy.

Three weeks early, and the league was yours.

The title belonged to Bayern.

You knew it was much less easy than that, of course.

The time, the preparation, the training.

Every drop of blood, sweat, and tears.

But still.

It was like you blinked, and the season was coming to an end, and the silver plate in your captain's hands, glittering in the midday sun, belonged to your team.

Speaking of said captain.

You can't help the way your chest fills with pride and love at the sight of the bouncing, overjoyed, Icelandic woman.

The screams of yourself and your teammates drowned out by just the sight of her this happy and carefree.

Don't get yourself wrong.

She was as relaxed as captains could be, but it was nice seeing the weight of a whole season lift off her shoulders.

The pressure of perfection is finally released as the team clinches its second title in a row.

And your heart beats faster when she looks over to you across the bouncing huddle.

The chants of

"SUPER BAYERN SUPER BAYERN!"

Just filling you with immense pride for the woman across from you.

She approaches you as the group disperses slightly, a pep in her step and a leap into your arms as she holds your face, grin wide and bright, your hands settling under her thighs to hold her up.

"Elskan mín" (My love)

You hum, her tone soft as she presses her forehead to yours.

"Ég er svo stolt af þér." (I am so proud of you)

Her nose brushes yours as a light dusting of pink cross her face.

"You've been practising?"

"Smá" (A little)

"Guð ég elska þig." (God, I love you.)

She groans softly as she drops down from your grip, hands gripping your shoulders as she looks slightly up at you, a small peck to your cheek and she drags you over to the now forming line in front of the away section in the Bayer Leverkusen stadium.

After that, everything happens all at once.

Team photos, media duties, everyone's got a phone recording or posting, media outlets are interviewing your girlfriend and the two goal scorers for the day, swapping between camera crews seamlessly.

You're dragged into several videos and tiktoks, jumped on, beer dumped on you, occasionally receiving a smile from the strawberry blonde you call yours, in the small moments of quiet.

When you're finally settled, it's in your seat on the flight back to Munich.

Everything on the bus is chaotic, so there's no time to really process anything by the time you've been ushered onto the plane to return to Munich in time for recovery the next day.

The exhaustion is set in quick, and you're all whisked away back home once again, nearly the whole team knocking out on the flight, which surprises you given a certain someone's red bull addiction and just the overall excitement of winning the league.

The alcohol is still flowing through all of you.

The alcohol that will still be there when you arrive home and inevitably get dragged out to clubs and parties, even with the looming DFB Pokal Final.

And such happens.

You barely get time to shower and change before you've got Georgia and Sarah banging on your front door yelling at you and Glódís to hurry up.

Much to the bemusement of your captain, who'd been occupied with her back pressed to the glass wall of the shower.

All of that, to end up here, sat back, leant against a bartop, watching as Glódís dances with your teammates, the care-free air flowling freely around her.

You'd stepped away to grab another drink and a small break from the constant dancing and jumping around you'd been doing for the past twenty-four hours.

Turning back to the bar, you take a couple long swigs of your drink.

After another minute or so of just watching the passers-by in the club, you feel an arm around your shoulders, hands caressing your shoulders.

Tensing up, but then recognising the voice pressed to your ear, you're met with deep brown eyes and a very tipsy loving smile.

"Halló!"

You chuckle softly at the Nordic woman, arm wrapping around her waist as she leans on you for support.

"Hi, my love, how are you?"

Asking with an amused tone, only just feeling the buzz of the latest batch of alcohol pumping through you as it seems to have hit your girlfriend much quicker.

"I feel amazing!"

She all but shouts in your ear, and you wince slightly, even with the thumping bass in the crowded room.

"I see that!"

She hums, settling her nose into the crook of your neck for a moment, and presses a few small kisses there.

She then tugs you towards the dance floor.

"Come dance with me!"

Downing the rest of your drink, you set the glass down swiftly and let the older woman drag you off.

You watch for a moment, taking in the woman before you, moving and swaying already before you're even fully engrained into the large crowd of your dancing teammates.

She immediately pulls you in as close as possible, body pressed right to yours, hands settling on the nape of your neck, and you lean down to let your head rest on her shoulder as your body moves in time with hers.

Her fingers tangle in the loose hair at the back of your neck, nails gently scratching at your skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake.

It continues like that before she's leaning in to kiss you, her lips smashed against yours roughly and a little sloppily.

You chuckle, slowing her down a little with hands on her cheeks, kissing her for a moment longer, though she does pout as you pull away amused.

"Slow down, baby, we've got all night."

She groans before you finally let her kiss you again.

This time, it's slower, and she relaxes into your hold, which shifts to holding her hips, pulling her into you further if possible.

It's when you prod at her lips with your tongue that she grows impatient again, your teeth taking her lower lip to nip at it lightly.

She all but drags you from the club at that, much to the amusement of your teammates as you give them loud goodbyes over the music.

----

It doesn't surprise you that she's conked out the moment you're both laying under the sheets, sweat sheened and heart racing.

Her head's buried in under your chin, resting on your chest, arm thrown over your waist, and soft puffs of air getting released into your neck.

The past two days just come whirling through you all at once.

The anticipation, the win, the celebrations, the exhaustion, the continued celebrations, the fact that you got drowned in so much beer at some point, you're pretty sure you gave someone contact innebriation.

It's all a lot to go over, and knowing you still have more to do before an even remote break becomes available for you all.

Despite the exhaustion, you can't help lying awake for another hour, just to take in everything.

To let yourself relax into your girlfriend's warm embrace.

It takes but a moment to realise just how much you love her.

How you would do this over and over again just to see that smile again and again.

Just to see her this carefree and relaxed.

Just to see her dark brown eyes light up within a moment of a single whistle.

Watch as she jumps into your arms again, holds you tight, and kisses you with fervour and pure joy.

Someone once asked you if you ever saw yourself with anyone else.

Your answer?

"Are you kidding? Hell no."

----

[meazalykov]

money talks

sydney lohmann x rich!reader

summary: you spoil your footballer girlfriend

during a crisp autumn evening in munich, you’re scrolling through your phone, waiting for sydney to finish her post-match activities. 

bayern just secured a solid 3-0 victory against hoffenheim, cool right? sydney played a huge role in the second goal with an assist that had you grinning like a fool in the stands.

you’ve never been one for modest celebrations, especially when it comes to her. 

for you, victories..even the small ones..deserve to be rewarded, and you already know exactly how you’ll celebrate tonight.

your gaze drifts to the sleek black-and-gold box on the passenger seat of your car. inside are the limited-edition nike sneakers sydney mentioned in passing weeks ago..shoes that sold out within minutes of the drop. 

it had taken some persistence, a couple of calls, and more money than you really care to admit, but they were worth it. 

for her, everything is.

your parents built an empire from the ground up, starting with a chain of luxury hotels that expanded globally over the years. 

when they passed away unexpectedly, they left everything to you..their only child...along with a massive inheritance and a portfolio of investments that ensured you could live comfortably for the rest of your life times ten. 

though the wealth sometimes feels overwhelming, you’ve chosen to use it to make those you love happy, especially sydney, your girlfriend of four years.

a soft vibration pulls your attention back to your phone: 

syd: done! meet me by the entrance?

smiling, you reply quickly, already starting the car to head toward her.

when you pull up, sydney is waiting with her duffel bag slung over her shoulder, her hair still damp from her shower. she flashes you a smile that’s brighter than any stadium lights, and it’s the kind of look that makes you wonder if she realizes how easily she could ask for the moon, and you’d find a way to get it.

“hey, babe,” she says, leaning in through the window to kiss you softly. 

“you waited long?”

“never too long for you syd,” you reply, reaching over to unlock the door for her. as she slides into the seat, you try to contain your excitement about the gift, but your fingers drum lightly against the steering wheel, a small tell you know she’s noticed.

“what’s got you so excited?” she teases, tossing her bag into the backseat. 

“you look like you’re up to something.”

you bite back a grin, shrugging in mock nonchalance. 

“me? up to something? never.”

her eyes narrow playfully, but she lets it go for now, leaning back into the seat with a content sigh. 

“i’m starving. can we grab something on the way home?”

“of course,” you say, already mentally planning her favorite takeout spot. but first, you know you can’t wait any longer. as you pull into a nearby parking lot, you reach for the box in the passenger seat, holding it out to her. 

“before that, i got you something.”

her eyebrows raise as she glances at the box. 

“y/n? again?? you didn’t have to—”

“i know,” you interrupt gently, sliding it onto her lap. 

“but i wanted to. open it.”

sydney hesitates for a moment, looking at you like she’s trying to figure out how she ended up with someone so determined to spoil her. then she smiles, lifting the lid. syd’d eyes widen as she takes in the sneakers, and her mouth falls open slightly in shock.

“no way,” she breathes, pulling them out carefully. 

“these are the ones i showed you! how did you even find these? they’ve been sold out for weeks.”

you shrug again, trying to downplay the effort it took. 

“i have my ways.”

she laughs, shaking her head in disbelief. 

“your ways are ridiculous. y/n, these must’ve cost a fortune.”

“and that’s okay,” you say simply, and the sincerity in your voice makes her pause, her expression softening.

“thank you,” she says quietly, leaning over to kiss you again, this time slower, deeper. 

“i try,” you say with a grin, feeling your chest swell at her reaction. 

“but wait, there’s more.”

she groans dramatically, though the smile on her face betrays her. 

“more? y/n, you’re going to spoil me rotten.”

“that’s kind of the point,” you tease, pulling out a small velvet pouch from your bag. 

“this is for the second goal of yours tonight!” 

sydney’s eyes widen again as she opens the pouch to reveal a delicate gold bracelet, the kind that’s understated yet elegant—just like her. she stares at it for a moment before looking up at you, her voice soft. 

“what the hell? this is just–”

“i know,” you say, taking her hand to help fasten the bracelet around her wrist. it catches the light perfectly, and the way she smiles at it makes every effort feel worth it.

as you finally pull out of the lot to grab dinner, sydney reaches over to intertwine her fingers with yours. 

“you don’t have to keep buying me things, you know,” she says after a moment, her voice sincere. 

“i just like being with you. that’s enough for me.”

“i know,” you reply, squeezing her hand. 

“but this is how i show love. and i love you, syd. more than anything.”

she glances at you, her eyes shining. 

“i love you too. even if you are rich and ridiculous.”

masterlist

[b5withextrachicken]

FALLING IN LOVE? - JAMAL MUSIALA

pairings: jamal musiala x fem!reader

summary: they were seen kissing at a party but she can't quite remember. now she wants to find out if does.

(i hate this and also english isn't my first language.)

(pictures are not mine)

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Perfection. Pure perfection. That was probably the only word that could describe his performance today.

My eyes were practically glued to the pitch as my gaze followed his every move. He was at his best today, making his way through the defenders, dribbling out every single one of them. That man was sickeningly good on the field, I had to admit as I watched from the stands. The atmosphere was loud, cheering and addicting. Not where I usually spent a friday night but I could get used to it. Especially when the view was this good.

At a party several weeks ago I had befriended another peer group of athletes, temporarly increasing my number of close friends from 2 to 7. Normal, right? Well, no, because when I woke up with a headache the next morning and checked my way-too-bright phone on the nightstand, it was blown up with messages. Whatsapp, Insta, TikTok... even Facebook. Photos, low-quality videos, theories. There were strangers on the internet speculating about me and a boy. That boy. The boy i later found out was Jamal Musiala. The pictures clearly showed me and him. Way too close. But the worst thing was: I couldn't remember what happened that night.

And that's what brought me here today, to the front row of the Allianz Arena. Because since that night, I couldn't help but wonder if he remembered me or anything that happened. I needed to see him.

The game was heated, the tension could've been cut by a knife. A winner wasn't yet clear when the ball made its way to Jamals feet again. Even from across the pitch I could see his expression fall into concentration as he skillfully turned and sprinted through the opposition towards their goal. It was like the whole stadium went quiet as the fans and rivals realised his chance. He moved to a perfect position to aim. Shot. Scored.

The south curve went wild. Fans spilled their beer. Plastic cups flew. Bayern took the lead in the 87th minute, now so close to a home win. The scorer wearing the number 42 on his back ran over to them to celebrate his goal. He was ecstatic, smiling as he got closer to the barricade.

That's when his gaze met mine.

It was sudden. Fast. But for that minuscule second I could see his eyes light up. A telling spark. Was it recognition? Our momentary connection was severed when his team mates finally caught up to him, engulfing him in a wild hug almost sending the young man to the floor. I smiled, deciding to push the heavy thoughts to the back of my mind for now and embrace the warm atmosphere.

..........

The game was over, proudly ending in a 2:1 for Bayern Munich. The masses hurried to the exits, hoping to avoid the cramped traffic after the win. I lingered around, taking my time to collect my things and also to circumvent the crowded halls of the stadium for a little longer. My mind was racing as the stands cleared out, only leaving trash and spilled beer behind. I was about to sip up my jacket when-

"Y/N?"

I practically whirled around at the sudden voice and my gaze (once again) was met by those chocolate brown eyes that belonged to no other than Jamal. He took a small step back startled by my movement and send me an apologetic look for the scare. Now there was a litte more than an arms-length between us.

"Uh-hey!" I answered nervously, a shaky smile painting my lips. This wasn't at all how I imagined our encounter. My eyes scanned his appearance, he wore a baggy tracksuit jacket over his kit, the grass residues on his shorts still evident from the many fouls he had to endure. He hadn't even made it to the locker room. My gaze lingered on his lips before locking with his eyes again.

His mouth stretched into a sweet smile "Hey..."

Awkward silence. A few beats passed. I looked around nervously, my eyes now darting to anywhere but him. What was I supposed to talk about now? The weather?

Jamal also shuffled around nervously, looking down at his cleats. It was clear we both beat around the bush. He looked back up at me, his gaze resembling that of a deer. "So...Why-I mean, what brought you here, I didn't think I'd see you again..." he asked carefully. A blush tainted my cheeks "Uhm, I just... wanted to see you." I started, embarassed "You know, after the party." pausing for a moment, I thought back to the pictures of us kissing, contemplating if I should ask the question and just get it of my chest. Yeah. Best option.

"Do you remember anything about that night? Like what happened exactly? Did we... do something?"

It tumbled out of my mouth, one ask fused to another. I watched as his posture shifted, his eyes slightly widening. "What? No,no,no." he shook his head. A small wave of relief washed over me but it couldn't tame the burning lack of knowledge about that night. "Then what happened, the only thing I know is that I woke up with a headache.". He took a step back, processing my words before answering. "We had a good night you know, dancing, drinking...kissing. It went well until some drunk incel pushed you and you hit your head on a door frame..." the man paused, anger flashing in his eyes for a second. "He knocked you out. I drove you to the hospital. Your friends picked you up."

My mouth opened to reply, but quickly closed when no good answer formed on my tongue. It wasn't what I expected, but I still didn't know what to think about it.

"You waited at the hospital?" I asked, now completely catching up to what he said.

"Yeah." Jamal looked down to the floor again, hiding the faint red that now tinted his cheeks. "I wanted to ask for your number but... after everything happened I didn't think it was appropriate..." He trailed off.

"Oh-OH..well..." I was taken aback. Caught off-guard. Then I suddenly felt confidence seep through my body.

"You could ask me now."

He looked at me, a beat passed, then his face lit up. He took his phone out of his pocket and handed it to me, ready to enter the digits. As I was about to give him the phone back, he cleared his throat.

"Are you free next friday? It's my free day and maybe we could meet up at a café?" He asked, also growing more confident now. I blushed, and nodded, still a little overwhelmed by what just happened. "Yes, yes I'd love to. 5pm? Hopefully this time I'll remember..." I chuckled and Jamal quickly joined in. The situation now blurred into a sweet moment as we stood in the stadium that was completely empty. I smiled as I looked up at him. His eyes drifted to my lips before they met mine again.

"You better stay away from the door frames."

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my first piece on here, yayyy ig