#Pernille Harder

[woso-dreamzzz]

Christmas II

Hardersson x Baby!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: Your first holiday season

You sniffle a little bit in your pram.

You're fast asleep amongst your blankets but your little nose is red from the cold, as are your little cheeks.

"Are you sure you don't want to take her inside?" Popp asks as Pernille gently rocks the pram back and forth to settle you again. "It's warm there."

"She'll be fine out here," Pernille assures her," The cold air will be good for her lungs. We've got a call with Magda later and I want her to be awake for it."

"Magda can't come for Christmas?"

"She's still trying to sort out a flight but most of them are already booked up. She's going to try but..." Pernille sighs. "I don't know. It might just be me and the princesse. We'll survive."

"Well, you will," Popp laughs," But I'm not sure how long this one will in the cold."

Pernille rolls her eyes. "I told you! The cold is good for babies to nap in! She'll be fine!"

You sniffle a little in your sleep again, wiggling around in your pram and Pernille pops a dummy into your mouth. The effect is instant as you suckle it for comfort and drift back off to sleep again.

When you wake up, it's only because your dummy is being replaced with a bottle and people are standing over you and cooing.

Lots of your Momma's friends are watching you but it's the stern face of Caro that you focus on, legs kicking out happily as you feed from your bottle and reach out for Caro with your little grabby hands

"Caro's the favourite," Ewa teases, reaching up to ruffle her hair.

"Frido will be jealous," Pernille laughs as she adjusts your bottle so you're not drinking quite so quickly," She's convinced that she's the favourite."

Caro rolls her eyes dismissively. "Yeah, well Frido isn't exactly here, is she?"

Pernille's lips curl upwards into a smirk. "You've warmed up to my baby then? Because a few months ago, you would never say such a thing."

Your little hand curls around one of the fingers Caro offers you, a tight grip on the appendage that she wouldn't even get out if she tried.

"My heart isn't made of stone, Pernille," She says with an eye roll," Besides...y/n's...She's kind of cute when she's feeding."

"Do you want to feed her?"

"Let's not go that far. Baby steps."

You end taking yet another nap during the gym session and Pernille feels slightly vindicated when it's clear that this nap hasn't been nearly as nice as the nap you took in the cold air earlier.

The two naps you take at training gives you more than enough energy in the car to attempt to take both your shoes and socks off by the time that Pernille pulls up to the apartment.

In that time, you've managed both shoes, one sock while the other one hangs off half your foot.

"Good try, princesse," Pernille laughs, stroking a finger down your nose so you go adorably cross-eyed trying to follow it," But you haven't beat me yet. Let's get all of this back on, shall we?"

You make little huffing noises as Pernille puts your socks and shoes back on you, tightening them up so you won't be able to kick them off on the way upstairs to the apartment, as was your habit.

Pernille nearly drops her keys in shock at the sound of music playing through the front door, frozen in horror at the unexpected sound. Her grip on you tightens for a moment before Magda's horribly off tune singing reaches her ears and she's all but breaking the door down to get inside.

"You're here?!"

Magda's slumped over the kitchen table with a piping bag that she's trying to force icing out of to act as cement for a crumbling gingerbread house.

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"I...The flights? The airport? You said-"

"But it's a good surprise, yeah?" Magda teases, gently taking you from Pernille's arms and kissing her girlfriend on the lips," Besides, I couldn't miss the little one's first Christmas. I've got such a nice Chelsea kit to put her into! It's got my name on the back, you know."

Pernille laughs, somewhere between delight and shock.

"Ow!" Magda yelps as the back of a hand connects with her shoulder. "What was that for?!"

"I thought someone had broken in!" Pernille scolds before bursting into laughter. "Next time, send a text!"

"And ruin my surprise? Never!" Magda's voice goes high pitched as she lifts you up to blow a raspberry on your belly. "You hear that Princesse? I'm never going to ruin a surprise!"

Your peels of laughter echoe over the music playing, feet kicking happily as Magda does it again.

"Let's get these little booties off," Magda coos at you," And this silly little snow suit. We've got a Chelsea kit to put you in!"

"It's not Christmas just yet," Pernille reminds her before she can sweep you away," We don't do early presents in this house."

"Bah!" Magda waves a dismissive hand. "What's a few days early? She won't understand."

"That's not the point," Pernille says with a laugh," But, by all means, if you think you can get her in that kit without crying, go right ahead. I'm going to shower."

"Yeah, yeah...Wait, what do you mean?!"

Getting you into that Chelsea kit, like Pernille predicted, didn't exactly work. You started crying the moment it was brought near you and you didn't stop until Magda banished it from your sight.

Instead, you're put into a fuzzy reindeer onesie that matches with Magda's own and the one that she'd left for Pernille on the bed.

"Is that my little reindeer making that noise?" Pernille coos as she comes back into the room to the sound of your little giggles as Magda tickles your tummy with your swan and moose toy.

"It is!" Magda says proudly," Your little reindeer also decided we're going to watch some Christmas movies tonight."

"Oh she did, did she?"

"She did," Magda insists, flipping up your onesie's hood to show off the little antlers on it," She also requests that we order in dinner rather than cooking."

Pernille laughs. "I'll grab the menus."

[yeeterthek33per]

Happy engaygment to our mothers 😍🥳

[mysunshinetemptress]

Anxiety (lil McCabe universe)

Leah Williamson x McCabe!reader!ex

Magdalena Eriksson x Pernille Harder x McCabe!reader!platonic

Warnings: Talks of anxiety, not edited or proofread

You’re anxious, a feeling that has followed you around way longer than you would like to admit, a feeling that has consumed you way longer than your family, your Mam, knows about, longer than anyone knows about.

You had tried to tell her about the funny feeling you had as a kid, your little heart racing, your mind spinning, spiraling into the never-ending feeling of fear, but there was always something else, someone else. It wasn’t your Mam’s fault, nor was it your siblings’. They had things they needed her for, their own problems. Your Mam had her own problems. Surely this feeling, this sickening feeling, wasn’t as important as your siblings’ feelings, their needs and wants. They were older, so much older, they had more serious problems, more important problems and feelings than this feeling you were dealing with, right?

You didn't know why you so sick, it was so much more than butterflies, defenitly not excitement, it wasn't until you had been all grown up and earning enough money to visit a doctor did you get a diagnosis.

"Miss McCabe, you suffer from anxiety"

You had felt a weight being liftied off you the moment your feelings had been givien a name, that you weren't just looking for attention, you weren't just making it up, made you feel so much lighter then you had ever felt.

"You said you have been suffereing with these feelings since you were a child, did you ever try to tell anyone."

You nod, you had tried, when you couldn't go to your mam, you had tried one of your older siblings, you had tried to tell Katie, but she was to busy to deal with you "Y/n, can't you see i'm playing with Lauryn, your supposed to be a big girl now not a baby stop makeing things up for attention." you dropped your head as Katie muttered "Seriously she really needs to grow up."

"I tried." the docotor nodes her head her eyes scanning your solum face "How come you decided to look for answers now? For help now?"

You pick at your fingers "My girlfriend...She-she said she was worried about me...that-that sometimes I have trouble sleeping" you take a breath picking at your fingers looking towards the door, "I have trouble concentrating, she...I don't...she just said i should come here, that i should get a check up make sure im ok." The doctor smiled at you softly "If your girlfriend hadn't pushed you to come see me, would you have come eventualy."

Would you? "No" she looks surprised at your answer "No? why?" You look at the door again picking at the skin around your nails "I-I-I have to get on with it, I have to learn to get on with it-I have to grow up." The doctor looks even more surpriesed, sad, unhappy with your answer. Why is she unhappy with your answer?

“This isn’t something you can grow out of Miss McCabe, anxiety isn’t something you should just push on with, it can cause serious mental health problems for you if you do.” You shake your head no “I-I don’t have time-I have to get on with it-it’s the only way.” The doctor lets out a sigh “You said you come from a big family, surely one of them doesn’t mind talking to you about these things.” You shake your head again “They don’t need this, they-they don’t need anymore then they already have.” The doctor wants to press on you can see that but her attention is pulled to your bloody hands, you’ve picked at them till they bled. She looks to the door “Your girlfriend then.” Again you shake your head.

Leah doesn’t deserve the stress of something being wrong with you, she doesn’t deserve the possible sacrifices she’ll have to make in order to make you feel comfortable and happy. Not her,not Leah, not when she is the only person who looks at you and not through you, the only person whose hand fits and hold yours instead of passing through.

“I can look after myself, I-I have done it for long enough.”

You can look after yourself, you have done it for long enough, it’s the mantra you repeat in your head again and again as you arrive at the training grounds for Bayern, it’s the mantra you repeat every time your anxiety strikes and you feel yourself pick at your hands.

Bayern Munich, fresh start, no Katie, no Arsenal, no stupid bets, no Leah. Y/n, just Y/n.

“Hi.” Bayern Munich and Magdalena Eriksson, Bayern Munich and Pernille Harder.

You look behind you trying to see if it’s anyone else they are talking to, but there’s no one, there’s only you.

You.

You think for a second and the voices scream in your head, they are just like the others, this is a joke another bet, who can get closest to the new girl first. Who can pretend to be her friend the best.

Your hands, your poor hands sting as you begin to pick at them again, they are the same as the others, they have to be, all you are is worth a bet, 100 quid.

But still, there is no one behind you, no one new in the car park and the older women continue to smile at you softly.

Magda looks at your hands her smile faltering, she drags her eyes up your body, now noticing your heaving chest, your panicking, your shivering slightly yet you speak, you force yourself to talk to them even though it’s scaring the living shit out of you

“Hi”

[meazalykov]

open goals

lena oberdorf x bayern!reader

part one here - part two - part three here

summary: love wins at bayern munich

warnings: angst, one mention of childhood neglect, this part is very long too, enemies to lovers.

after some time, in february 2024, everything changed. 

you get home after training one evening, still feeling the unease that you can’t quite place. you try to shake it off as you walk through the front door, tossing your bag to the side, and head straight for the kitchen to grab a glass of water.

your mind is still spinning with all the weird little moments from today, but you can’t quite put your finger on what’s bothering you. 

everyone being so nice, so... attentive. well, your european teammates have always been the sweetest– sometimes clingy– but today feels different. your intuition tells you so. 

your fingers drum against the counter as you stare off at nothing, you try to brush it off as paranoia. it was probably nothing, they’re being the best teammates that they are.

the pink iphone of yours buzzes just as you take a sip of water, and you glance down to see your national teammate’s name flashing on the screen. 

relief floods you; it’s been a minute since you last talked to her, and you need some normalcy right now, something that feels comfortable and familiar. you quickly swipe to answer.

“heyyyy!” you greet, trying to sound casual as you lean back against the counter.

“hey girl,” she laughs, her voice bright and cheerful. 

“god, it’s been forever since we last talked. i got bored and saw your contact so i figured i’d call you. i hope i am not interrupting?”

“you aren’t. i just got home.” you smile.

“okay cool! how are things? how’s training?”

“oh, you know, same old,” you say, forcing a smile even though she can’t see you. 

“just finished up for the day like i said. bayern’s... good. how’s everything with you? i know you just transferred from lyon to chelsea last month. how is everything? you’ve been at lyon since forever.” 

“forever as in a few years? ha i am doing good. the girls here are sweet.” your teammate says, you can hear the comfort in her voice. 

“thats great! jess mentioned that you were getting comfortable.”

“yeah, yeah. honestly, the problem is getting used to a new routine,” she groans dramatically, and you laugh, feeling yourself relax a little. 

“can’t wait to catch up with you when we’re back together at the national camp. what about you? how’s georgia doing? and the others?” your national teammate continues. 

you feel a little warmth spread through your chest at the mention of your bayern teammates. 

“oh, they’re great. georgia’s, well, being georgia as always. sydney’s loud and chaotic. nothing’s really changed, y’know? just the usual chaos.”

“sounds about right,” she says, chuckling. 

“but hey, speaking of georgia... she told me that you were getting a new tattoo soon by her? something about matching with some of the bayern crew?”

“yeah, actually, later tonight,” you reply, glancing at the clock. 

“heading over to georgia’s shop in a bit. i’m not getting one today, though—sam is. but... yeah, we’ll all be there.”

“oh, nice,” she says, and you can hear her moving around on the other end, probably putting dishes away or something. 

“what’s sam getting?”

“not sure,” you admit with a shrug, even though she can’t see it. 

“i think it’s a symbol or something. you know sam—always something meaningful.”

“classic sam,” she says with a fond chuckle, and for a moment, everything feels light and easy. just a normal catch-up between friends.

but then her tone shifts a bit, a hesitant edge creeping in. 

“hey, uh... you’ve been good, right? like, with... everything going on?”

you blink, confused by the sudden change in topic. 

“yeah, i mean... yeah, everything’s fine. why?”

she hesitates, and you can hear the hesitation in her voice. 

“i just... i don’t know. i thought you might be, um, worried. about... well, about the rumors and stuff.”

“rumors?” you repeat, furrowing your brow. “what rumors?”

“about lena,” she says softly, like she’s not sure how you’re going to take it. 

the smile on your face drops from the sound of her name. 

“you know... her possibly transferring to bayern.”

you freeze, the air catching in your throat. “what?” you say, your voice coming out sharper than you intended. 

“what do you mean… transferring? lena’s at wolfsburg. she’s been there forever and i remember lea mentioning something about her signing a renewal with them.”

there’s a pause, and you hear her take a deep breath. 

“yeah, i know, but... haven’t you seen the news on social media? like, there’s a bunch of talk that she might be coming to bayern. i mean, it’s all just rumors right now, but... i figured someone would’ve mentioned it to you. i thought... i thought you knew.”

you shake your head even though she can’t see you, trying to process what she’s saying, but it feels like she’s speaking another language. 

“no, no, i didn’t know. why would... why would lena come to bayern? that... that doesn’t make sense.”

“i mean, she’s one of the best players in germany,” your teammate points out, her voice still soft and cautious. 

“it kinda makes sense for her to move to a big club like bayern... i’m sorry– i know you hate me for saying that–but i didn’t think you’d be finding out like this. shit shit shit, i’m sorry, y/n. i honestly thought you knew.”

“no,” you say quickly, trying to keep your voice steady even as your mind is racing. “no, i... i had no idea. i mean... lena and bayern, that’s... that’s not possible. it can’t be real.”

“it’s all just talk right now,” she reassures you, but you can hear the uncertainty in her voice. 

“look, maybe it’s just rumors, you know how these things go. people are always saying players are going here and there. remember when the news said that you were leaving munich to go to new york?? that never happened! but... i dunno, i’ve been seeing it all over my timeline.”

you feel your heart pounding in your chest, and there’s a dull ringing in your ears as you try to make sense of everything. 

“you’re... you’re joking, right?” you force out a laugh, but it sounds shaky. 

“please tell me you’re joking.”

“i wish i was,” she says, and your stomach drops. “i can send you the links if you want to see for yourself.”

“fine,” you say, feeling like you’re on autopilot now, the panic starting to build in your chest. 

“send them over.”

the moment the call ends, the links start coming through—one after the other, headlines that make your eyes blur with disbelief. 

“wolfsburg star rumored to be signing with bayern…”

“lena oberdorf could be on the move…” 

“bayern munich set to sign germany’s young talent…”

it’s like the words swim in front of your eyes, and your breath catches in your throat.

you stare at your phone, feeling the world shift beneath your feet. it feels like everything is closing in, like the room is getting smaller and smaller, and all you can do is sit there, trying to remember how to breathe. 

lena. at bayern. in the same locker room as you. wearing the same crest as you. doing the same cheers and learning the handshakes. it feels like a nightmare, but you’re wide awake.

she’d never come here. she’d never... never follow you to bayern. not after everything. you told yourself.

but then again, lena was always one step ahead, always getting to you when you least expected it. 

what if it’s true? what if she really is coming here?

you shakily text your teammate back—hey, i’ll call you later,—but you know you won’t. not now. not while your head is spinning like this.

you make it to georgia’s tattoo place, just about two minutes late but munich traffic during rush hour was busy. the bell above the door chimes as you step in, and the familiar smell of ink and antiseptic fills the air. 

georgia’s setting up her tattoo gun for sam, who’s chatting animatedly with ana, lea, and sydney on the side. usually, you’d be joking around with them, too, but today you’re barely holding it together.

georgia looks up, smiling as you walk in. “hey, you made it! ready to watch the magic happen while sam panics the whole time?”

“shut up!” sam protests. 

you force a smile, but it feels fake, plastered on. you can’t focus on anything but the whirlwind of thoughts spinning in your head. 

“yeah... yeah, sure,” you mumble, feeling like your voice is coming from someone else’s mouth.

sydney notices the look on your face and frowns. 

“y/n? what’s up? you have the same face you made when we got knocked out of the champions league last month.”

you swallow hard, your voice wavering as you ask the question that’s been clawing at your mind the entire way over. 

“did... did you guys know about lena? that she’s... coming to bayern?”

the room goes quiet, and you see the way georgia’s shoulders tense, the way sydney exchanges a look with ana. 

no one speaks for a moment, and the silence feels like it’s crushing you.

lea is the one to break it, stepping forward and reaching out to touch your arm gently. 

“y/n, we didn’t want to tell you until we knew for sure. it’s all rumors right now—lena hasn’t told me anything about that yet. nothing is confirmed, okay?”

“yeah,” sydney adds quickly, crossing her arms, her voice firm. 

“look, lena’s a good player. if she’s coming to bayern, it’s not to make your life harder. she probably wants to be close to her friends, her family... you should know that this isn’t about you.”

“but it feels like it’s about me,” you admit, hating the tremor in your voice. “it’s like she’s... she’s invading my space, and i... i don’t know what to do about it. what if she comes here and makes everything... worse?”

you tell yourself you’re a professional, and lena is too. you tell yourself that maybe things will be okay. but the past still grips your chest tightly, reminding you of every moment of anger, every tackle, every taunt. and deep down, you know you’re not ready to let that go. not yet.

when lena confirms to the public that she will join bayern after this season ends, with the bayern pages itself posting pictures of lena signing the contract beside bianca-- you feel dread.

“what if she takes my spot? what if she bullies me in the locker room when you guys aren’t around?” you found yourself blurting out to pernille, magda, and tuva in the lounge room the following morning.

“what if she… i don’t know, what if she ruins everything and i’d have to move clubs?”

“süße erbse,” tuva said gently, placing a hand on your shoulder. “you really think we’d let that happen? lena’s good, but you’re y/n l/n. we love you here.”

“yeah,” pernille added with a grin, “you think lena can come in here and take away our süße erbse? not a chance.”

you wanted to believe them, but there was still a knot in your stomach. it wasn’t just about your spot on the team. 

it was everything—years of being belittled by her, the way she made you feel like you were always playing catch-up. and now she was going to be…here. in your everyday life.

when july rolled around, the first day lena officially joins bayern, you’re tense before you even get to the training ground. 

everyone– aka the girls from the german national team–have been buzzing about her arrival for weeks, and the news has followed you around like a shadow—reminding you every day that your former rival, the person who pushed you to your lowest, was now going to be your teammate. 

it doesn't sit right, and as you step into the locker room that morning, you can’t shake the discomfort in your chest.

there she is, standing by her locker, looking...different. softer than the lena you’re used to seeing in the green and white of wolfsburg. 

now, she’s wearing the same red bayern training kit as you, and it makes something twist inside your stomach. wrong. that’s what it feels like—just wrong. 

you want to turn around and leave, just pretend you forgot something in the parking lot and stall for time, but she spots you before you can move. 

her eyes light up, that familiar spark dancing in them—but it’s not taunting like before. it’s... welcoming. she gives you this big smile, the kind that makes her eyes crinkle at the edges, and suddenly it feels like the room is too hot, too small, like the walls are closing in on you.

“y/n, hey,” lena says, and her voice sounds...kind. friendly. nothing like the voice you remember yelling at you on the pitch, taunting you with every mistake. 

she walks toward you, like she’s genuinely excited to see you, and you want to flinch away. 

“i’m really glad to be here. i know we’ve had a past, but i hope we can leave all that behind and be teammates. put the rivalry aside, yeah?”

you force a smile, but it feels more like a grimace. “hi,” you manage to say, your voice cracking slightly. 

you can barely meet her eyes, your gaze dropping to the floor because looking at her feels like staring straight into the past—the tackles, the taunts, the years of feeling like you were always playing catch-up. 

“it’s nice to finally be on the same side, don’t you think?” she continues, still smiling, as if she’s trying to ease the tension. 

“i’m looking forward to working with you. i’ve... always admired how you play.”

the words are so dissonant, so out of place coming from her, that you can’t help but scoff quietly. 

admired you? this is the same woman who spent years making you feel like you were never enough, who relished in getting under your skin every chance she got. and now she was just going to act like that history never existed? like she never made you a joke, like you’re supposed to be grateful for her kindness now?

“right,” you say flatly, unable to keep the sarcasm from your voice. “well... welcome, then.”

you turn to walk away, unable to deal with the tightness in your chest, but the moment you take a step, lena calls after you, her voice softening. 

“y/n, wait—I really mean it. i don’t want there to be... any bad blood between us. i want to start fresh.”

you pause, but don’t turn back to look at her. every muscle in your body feels tense, like you’re coiled to spring away, and your mind is racing with every bitter memory. 

“yeah, well... some things aren’t that easy to forget,” you mutter before walking off, feeling like you’re practically running away towards the training grounds.

your heart hammers in your chest as you make your way to the pitch, trying to shake the feeling of discomfort that lingers. 

you hate how your voice sounded, how nervous you were—like a little kid facing down a bully. 

get it together, you're a twenty-one year old adult. you tell yourself, trying to block out the way she looked at you, like you were someone she actually cared about. 

you don’t know this lena, and you’re not sure you want to.

as you head out to the pitch, you see sydney standing by the goalpost, and you practically breathe a sigh of relief. 

your best friend on the team, your fiercest defender when it comes to lena, sydney notices immediately that something’s up when she sees your face.

“she talked to you, didn’t she?” sydney asks, her voice sharp. she’s always had your back when it comes to lena, never liked the way she treated you. 

all of the other girls at bayern hated how lena treated you, but sydney was more vocal about it. 

“what’d she say?”

“just... some bullshit about wanting to start over,” you say, shaking your head, your voice dripping with disbelief. 

“like she thinks we’re just going to be best friends now or something. like all of the shit she put me through doesn’t matter.”

sydney’s expression hardens, and she glares over at lena, who’s standing off to the side of the pitch, looking a little lost and unsure as lea talks to tuva. 

“what did she expect? that she’d walk in and everything would be fine and dandy?” she scoffs, rolling her eyes. 

“she’s got a nerve, acting like you’re just supposed to forgive her instantly.”

“yeah, well, i’m not,” you say, your jaw tightening. “not yet. maybe not ever.”

training starts, and as the drills go on, you feel lena’s eyes on you a few times—quick glances, like she’s gauging whether to approach you again. 

but every time she makes a move, sydney is there, blocking her path or shooting her a look that says, not now. eventually, lena seems to get the hint, and she keeps her distance, sticking close to lea.

after training, as you’re cooling down, you see lena approach sydney, her expression uncertain but determined. 

“hey, um... is y/n okay?” you hear her ask, her voice low. “i didn’t mean to... i don’t know, make her uncomfortable.”

sydney, to her credit, doesn’t sugarcoat anything. “look, lena,” she says firmly, crossing her arms. 

“you know what happened between you two. you know what you did. don’t expect her to like you immediately just because you’re being nice now. give her space. she’s not... ready for this.”

lena nods slowly, looking over at you from across the pitch, her face falling slightly. “yeah... yeah, i get it. thanks.”

you don’t know how much she means it—you don’t know if she really understands how much damage she did, how much she’s hurt you over the years. and you’re not ready to find out, either. all you know is that seeing her in the same kit, wearing your club’s crest, feels like a betrayal. and it’s going to take a lot more than nice words and pretty smiles to change that.

throughout the preseason she tried to engage with you more, but every time, you shied away. it wasn’t that you couldn’t talk to her—it was that you didn’t want to. 

not after how she made you feel.

lena, for her part, noticed. she wasn’t stupid. she saw how you avoided her, how you never quite met her eyes. so one day, after a particularly awkward training session, she turned to her best friend lea for advice.

“why does y/n hate me so much?” lena asked, frowning as they sat together after practice.

lea glanced at her, “obi, are you serious?” 

lena sighed,

then lea sighed. “well, it’s pretty obvious, lena. you’ve been pushing her around and treating her like shit for years.”

lena blinked, clearly taken aback. “what do you mean?”

“i mean, you’ve made her life miserable on the pitch,” lea explained patiently, even though lena pretends like the last three years didn’t exist.

“people have been making jokes about her because of you, and you…you’ve entertained it. you’ve never let up, even when it wasn’t necessary. of course she’s going to resent you. you made her feel small.”

lena was quiet for a long moment, her brow furrowing. she hadn’t thought about it that way before. 

she’d just always seen it as competition, as banter. but now… now it made sense. “i didn’t mean to,” she murmured.

“yeah, well,” lea said, “that doesn’t change how she feels.”

then, as if things couldn’t get more complicated, lena tore her acl before the olympics in the summer. it was brutal, seeing her go down like that. and even though you resented her, a part of you—deep down—felt sorry for her. 

you knew what it was like to be sidelined for months due to the same injury, to watch everything you’ve worked for slip away.

so, you did something you didn’t think you’d ever do: you texted her through instagram.

*hey. i’m sorry to hear about your injury. i hope you have a smooth recovery.*

you stared at your phone for a long time after hitting send, unsure if you’d regret it. lena responded quickly, thanking you, and trying to start a conversation. but you didn’t give her much, keeping your replies short, not really engaging. 

you weren’t ready to let your guard down yet, even if she is on the same team with your teammates protecting you.

over the next two months, lena tried again and again to reach out, but you kept her at arm’s length. 

it wasn’t until one day, after a particularly long rehab session, that she finally cornered you, her eyes soft but determined.

“can we talk?” she asked, her voice gentler than you’d ever heard it.

you sighed but nodded, deciding it was time to hear her out. the two of you found a quiet spot in the training center, and she looked at you with something almost like regret in her eyes.

“i didn’t realize…how much i hurt you,” lena began. 

“i thought it was just part of the game, you know? but lea explained it to me. and i finally get it now. i’m so sorry.”

you crossed your arms, looking down at your shoes. 

“you made me a joke, lena. you acted like it was nothing, but i had to hear it from everyone. people comparing us, praising you, and making me feel like…like i wasn’t good enough. and you encouraged it. you made me feel small.”

lena’s face softened, and she stepped closer. 

“that was never my intention. i never meant to make you feel like that. i admired you. you’re…goodness, y/n, you’re incredible on the pitch. you’re so fast, and the way you move with the ball—it’s like art. and off the pitch, you’re…you’re kind. you’re good to people. i didn’t realize how much that meant until lea pointed it out.”

you blinked, taken aback by her words. “what?”

lena sighed, running a hand through her hair. 

“i’m saying i like you. i’ve liked you for a while now. i just didn’t know how to show it, so i acted like an idiot. i get it if you hate me. i probably deserve that.”

you stared at her, completely caught off guard. 

“you’re joking, right? are you serious? you can’t just say something like that after everything. how can you feel that way after everything you’ve said and done to me?”

“i’m not joking,” lena said softly, her eyes meeting yours. “i like you, y/n. and i’m sorry. i really am. i know i hurt you, but if you give me a chance, i’d like to make it up to you.”

you swallowed hard, trying to process everything. part of you wanted to stay angry, to hold onto the grudge you’d built up over the years. but another part of you—one that you didn’t want to admit existed—was intrigued. 

was it possible that lena oberdorf, the girl who had made your life hell on the pitch, actually had feelings for you?

“i don’t know,” you said slowly, your voice tight. “you hurt me, lena. you pushed me around for years. you made me feel like i was less. i’m not just going to forget that because you have a crush.”

lena nodded, her expression serious. “i understand. i’m not asking you to forget. i’m just asking for a chance to prove that i’m not that person anymore.”

you hesitated, your walls still firmly in place. “if i even consider this,” you said carefully, “you need to apologize. really apologize, not just say it because you think it’s what i want to hear.”

lena met your eyes, her voice steady. “i’m sorry, y/n. i’m sorry for the way i treated you, for making you feel like you weren’t enough. you’re more than enough. you’ve always been.”

you felt something shift in your chest, a soft crack in the armor you’d built up over the years. maybe, just maybe, lena meant it.

“okay,” you said quietly, your voice barely above a whisper. “we’ll see.”

after months of unease, things start to shift. lena is at bayern now, and even though you’re not thrilled about it, you’ve accepted that she’s not going anywhere. 

she’s on the sidelines for every training session, every game, with that same determined look in her eyes, even though her acl injury keeps her off the pitch. 

despite the resentment that still lingers, you can’t help but feel like you’re softening toward her, little by little. 

you've been bayern’s top scorer so far this season. after every game, lena comes onto the pitch to congratulate everyone. she goes around, hugging your teammates, and when she gets to you, her arms open, but you freeze. 

“um– can we do a handshake?” you suggest awkwardly, offering your hand instead of leaning in for the hug. lena hesitates but nods with a small smile, shaking your hand.

“good game,” she says quietly, eyes lingering on you for a moment longer than necessary.

“thanks,” you mumble, trying not to meet her gaze for too long. 

it goes on like that for a while. lena is kind, trying to talk to you, but you keep your distance. until one night in the champions league group stage against brann. 

you’re in form, dominating the game. after the final whistle, you feel unstoppable, and for once, when lena comes up to you, the usual wall you’ve put up doesn’t feel as necessary. 

“that was an incredible performance,” lena says, her voice softer than you expected. “that goal of yours was fucking amazing!.”

something in her tone feels different, more genuine. you swallow, feeling a strange warmth in your chest.

“thank youu!” you say, and before you realize it, you’re leaning into her for a hug. it’s quick, but enough to catch lena off guard. when you pull back, you notice her slight smile, surprised but pleased.

lea sees it, of course. she catches your eye from across the pitch and raises an eyebrow, smirking as if to say, finally. you roll your eyes at her but can’t help the small smile tugging at your lips.

the next game, however, things take a turn. you go down with a minor ankle injury—nothing serious, but enough to keep you out for a week. you’re frustrated, but during that time off, lena reaches out again. 

"hey, do you wanna grab lunch?" she asks one afternoon after recovery workouts, catching you as you’re leaving the facility. 

you hesitate, unsure. 

“maybe... georgia can come too?” you suggest, hoping for a buffer. 

lena raises an eyebrow, but she nods. 

“sure, if that makes you more comfortable.”

later, georgia tells you, “sorry, luv, i can’t make it. i have some appointments at the tattoo shop today. you’ll be fine without me though.” 

you groan, realizing you’re stuck going alone.

the lunch ends up going better than expected, despite your initial reluctance. 

lena is... different. she talks about her recovery, how tough it’s been not being able to play, and how strange it’s been being around you in this new context. 

“i just want to say i’m sorry again,” lena says halfway through the meal, catching you off guard. she’s picking at her food, avoiding your gaze. “i know i’ve apologized before, but... i was really awful to you for a long time.”

you blink, surprised at the sincerity in her voice. “yeah, you were,” you admit quietly, not really looking at her either. “but... i guess it’s not as bad now. you’re trying, at least.”

lena smiles at that, small but genuine. “i am. i mean it, y/n. i really... i really do like you.”

you stare at her, the words hanging in the air. “you’re serious about that? you’re not joking? you actually... like me?”

lena’s eyes flick up to meet yours, and she nods. “i do. i know i haven’t given you many reasons to believe me, but... it’s not a joke. not anymore.”

you don’t say anything for a moment, processing her words. later, you find yourself going to lea about it.

“is she serious?” you ask her, sitting on the edge of your bed one night after training. “like, does lena really have a crush on me or is she just... messing with me again?”

lea tilts her head, looking at you carefully. “she’s serious, y/n. i’ve known lena for years, and she’s not the same person you faced on the pitch. she’s not as bad as you think.”

“really?” you furrow your brow. “because all i’ve seen is her making my life hell.”

lea sighs, shaking her head. “yes, she’s my bestfriend y/n. you only saw her bad side because you were rivals. but back when we were at essen, or even with the national team, she’s... she’s kind. she was always the first one to help out, the one who looked out for the younger players. she just got competitive with you.”

“you’re saying she’s always been kind? because i’ve literally never seen it.”

lea nods, crossing her arms. “i’ve seen it. she’s not just this tough girl who wants to win everything. she’s actually really thoughtful. she’d always bring coffee to the team early in the morning. she once helped a teammate get to the airport when she missed her train... little things like that.”

you’re quiet for a moment, trying to imagine this version of lena. “huh. i never knew that.”

“you weren’t supposed to,” lea shrugs. “you guys were always butting heads, but that doesn’t mean she didn’t care. i think... i think she just didn’t know how to show it. especially around you.”

you chew on that for a while.

in november– it hits you suddenly one evening after training before the uwcl match against arsenal. 

as you’re sitting on the edge of your bed, wearing comfy pajamas, your heart is pounding for no reason that you can explain. 

it’s like a creeping realization that crawls up your spine and won’t let go: you’re developing feelings for lena.

you bury your face in your hands, groaning softly. 

“god, i’m so stupid,” you mutter to yourself. you can't believe it—lena, the girl who made you feel like absolute shit for years, the one who seemed to thrive on making you look bad on the pitch, the one who’d taunted and tackled you like you were nothing.

how could you possibly like her? how could you feel anything for someone who made you feel so stupid and worthless?

but now, things are different. ever since lena joined bayern, she’s been... well, kind. showing you this softer, gentler side that you never saw before. helping you during training, throwing out compliments here and there, catching you off guard with that stupid smile that makes you blush. and the more you see of this side of her, the more it eats away at you.

lena is genuinely sweet. she’s... attractive. and that scares you.

you need to talk to someone—someone who understands, someone who won’t judge you. so, you go to madga and pernille, the two adult players you trust most on the team. 

they're like your mentors, the big sisters you never had, and when you knock on their door late that night, you’re practically shaking with nerves.

“y/n?” madga’s voice is gentle as she opens the door, concern immediately clouding her features. 

“what’s wrong?”

“can... can i come in?” you ask, your voice wavering. 

“of course,” pernille says, stepping aside to let you into their shared apartment. the space is cozy, a few blankets draped over the sofa, the faint smell of tea lingering in the air.

you sit down heavily on the couch, madga and pernille sitting on either side of you, giving you their full attention. “it’s about... lena,” you begin, hesitating, feeling your hands tremble in your lap.

madga and pernille exchange a look—one that you can’t read, but they don’t interrupt. they just nod, encouraging you to continue.

“i—i think i might... like her,” you finally confess, your voice cracking on the last words. “and i can’t believe it, because for so long i hated her. she made my life miserable on the pitch, and now she’s being all... nice, and i’m... i’m starting to see how... god, how attractive she is, and it’s terrifying.”

pernille reaches out, placing a hand on your shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “it’s okay, y/n. it’s okay to feel conflicted.”

“i’m just... i’m so angry at myself,” you admit, tears threatening to spill over. “she used to be so awful to me, you know? every time we played each other, she’d do whatever she could to make me feel like i was nothing, just... trash-talking, tackling me, all of it. and now... now i’m supposed to believe she’s this sweet, thoughtful person, like she’s always been? and the worst part is... i do believe it. and it’s like i’m losing control of how i feel.”

madga lets out a small sigh, nodding as she processes your words. “people are complicated, y/n. we all have different sides to us. it sounds like... maybe lena was just showing you one side back then—the competitor, the rival, someone who was tasked to throw you off of the game. but maybe that’s not all she is. you’re getting to see the real lena now.”

you shake your head, staring down at your hands. “but why now? why show me this side now? why couldn’t she have done it before? when i—when i actually hated her?”

“because it’s hard to show your softer side when you’re up against someone who you see as your biggest challenge,” pernille says softly. 

“maybe she didn’t know how to show you who she really was. but that doesn’t mean it’s not real now.”

“i just don’t know what to do,” you whisper, feeling so lost. 

“i don’t know how to feel about her. some days i want to push her away, pretend like she’s still that girl who used to treat me like crap. and then other days... i can’t stop thinking about her. about the way she smiles, how she looks at me. i stare at her arms too sometimes– gosh why am i saying that UGHH i don’t know if i can trust it. trust... her.”

madga wraps her arm around you, pulling you close in a gentle side hug. “it’s okay to be scared. it’s okay to feel all of this. but you don’t have to figure it out all at once. let it happen, y/n. let yourself feel what you feel.”

“but what if she hurts me again?” you say, your voice light. 

“what if this is all just... a game to her? what if i’m just going to be a joke again?”

“noo way. if so, we will stop that,” pernille says, smiling softly. “whatever happens, we’ve got your back. but you have to let yourself feel it, even if it’s scary. if you’re really seeing a different side to lena, maybe that’s worth seeing. or... maybe not. but you won’t know unless you let yourself try.”

you nod slowly, letting their words wash over you. maybe they’re right—maybe you’re overthinking it. but the fear is still there, lingering, because falling for someone like lena means trusting her, and you’re not sure you’re ready for that.

but as you sit there, sandwiched between madga and pernille, you take a deep breath and let yourself relax. maybe, just maybe, it’ll be okay. maybe this could be something real. and if it’s not... at least you know you won’t be alone.

by now it’s december, and it’s nearing christmas. the bayern locker room is filled with excitement. everyone’s talking about their plans for the holidays—family gatherings, trips abroad, dinners with loved ones. 

you sit in the corner, pulling off your ivory colored cleats slowly, hoping no one will ask you. you’ve always been good at hiding it, but this time it feels harder. 

there’s no family waiting for you, no friends flying in from home. just you.

sam kerr is the first to bring it up, naturally. she’s sitting across from you, leaning back with her phone in hand, already talking about her plans. 

“so, y/n,” she starts, her tone casual, but there’s a glint of curiosity in her eyes. 

“what are you doing for christmas? heading home, or what?”

you freeze for a second, then plaster on your usual smile. “uh, yeah. i’ve got a friend visiting,” you lie, trying to keep your voice light, like it’s no big deal.

the entire locker room listens.

"oh?" georgia raises an eyebrow. “which friend? anyone we know?”

you laugh awkwardly, shaking your head. "nah, just an old friend from back home. you wouldn’t know her."

"that’s nice," ana chimes in from the other side of the room, clearly not sensing the tension behind your smile.

“i’m jealous. all my friends are still stuck at their parents’ houses in colombia. it's family overload." ana continues.

you nod along, trying to seem as normal as possible. “yeah, well, it’ll be nice to catch up.”

but then, tuva joins in, her usual sharp instincts picking up something. she looks at you, her eyes narrowing slightly. "you’ve never mentioned this friend before. how come?"

you feel your stomach tighten. "we... we don’t talk much. they’re in university. we are just, you know, catching up for the holidays."

tuva tilts her head, still studying you, but thankfully, she doesn’t push further. instead, the conversation shifts as the others talk about their own plans again. but you can feel the tightness in your chest, the weight of the lie sitting uncomfortably on your shoulders. 

you can’t help but wonder if any of them can tell.

as you finish changing and start heading out, georgia catches up to you. 

“hey, y/n,” she says softly, her voice just a bit quieter, as if sensing something’s off. “you good? you seemed... i don’t know, distracted earlier.”

you force a smile again. “yeah, just tired. it’s been a long week.”

georgia doesn’t look convinced, but she lets it go, offering you a soft smile. “well, if you need anything over christmas, let me know, alright? we can always meet up if your plans fall through.”

“thank you,” you mumble, appreciating her kindness but knowing you’ll never take her up on that offer. 

you’ve gotten used to spending the holidays alone, and this year will be no different.

christmas day arrives, and true to your word, you’re alone. 

you walk to your favorite café, the one where the baristas know your order without you even having to ask. 

the streets are quiet, the festive buzz from days prior now fading into a peaceful stillness. you’ve got your true crime book tucked under your arm, planning to spend the afternoon reading, just like every year.

as you step inside the café, you smile at the baristas, leaving a generous tip in their jar. 

"merry christmas," you say, offering them a small nod before settling into your usual spot by the window.

outside of the team, outside of football, you consider yourself to be a loner. due to childhood trauma involving neglect, you don’t talk to your family. in fact, football was your escape from them. 

you never made an effort to have friends outside of the clubs you played for. the hobbies you have never involved meeting other people. you’re aware that you shouldn’t have your life surrounded by football, but it was the thing that saved you. 

even “she” couldn’t break you from playing football for those three years. 

you’re halfway through the first chapter of your book when the door swings open. at first, you don’t pay much attention, too focused on the pages in front of you. but then you hear familiar footsteps, and out of habit, you glance up. your heart drops when you see who it is.

lena.

you immediately duck your head, trying to hide behind your book, but it’s too late. lena stops mid-step, her eyes widening in surprise as she spots you. 

she pauses for a moment, clearly taken aback, before heading straight toward your table.

“y/n?” she asks, her voice carrying a mix of confusion and curiosity. 

“what are you doing here?”

you swallow hard, forcing yourself to look up. “uh... just grabbing a coffee,” you reply, your voice stiff.

lena’s eyes flicker with suspicion as she pulls out the chair across from you and sits down backwards on the chair, her arms resting on top of the wood.. 

“where’s your friend? the one who was supposed to visit?”

your pulse quickens, and for a split second, you consider keeping up the lie. 

but something about the way she’s looking at you, her brow furrowed with genuine concern, makes you crumble.

“they... they couldn’t make it,” you admit, your voice quieter now. “something came up.”

lena studies you for a moment, her gaze softening. “you’re lying,” she says gently, but there’s no malice in her voice. 

“there was never a friend. you’re spending christmas alone, aren’t you?”

you sigh, dropping your gaze to the table. “yeah,” you finally admit, feeling the weight of the truth settle around you. 

“i’ve always spent it alone. it’s... just how it is.”

lena’s expression softens even more, and she leans forward slightly, her voice quiet but firm. 

“you don’t have to spend it alone, y/n. come with me. i’m not doing anything either, my parents are visiting my brother.”

you blink, surprised by the offer. “lena, you don’t have to—”

“i’m not letting you spend christmas in a cold café by yourself,” she interrupts, her tone leaving no room for argument. 

“come on. i’ve got rookie at home, we’ll cook something, and i can put on some disney christmas movies. it’ll be fun.”

you hesitate, glancing around the empty café before looking back at her. “i don’t know, lena...”

“please,” she insists, her eyes searching yours. “it’s christmas. no one should be alone.”

after a long pause, you finally nod. “okay. but only because you said disney movies.”

lena grins, standing up and grabbing her coat. “deal.”

“also, what’s a rookie? you said you’ve got a rookie at home.” you question as lena holds the door open for you.

“you’ll see.” lena smirks. 

in her apartment, the atmosphere is warm and cozy. rookie, her dog, greets you excitedly at the door, his tail wagging as he sniffs at your legs.

“awe who’s this?” you smile, going on your knees as you scratch the dog’s ears. 

“this is rookie!” lena says, admiring you and rookie interacting. 

“this is the rookie!!!” you squeak.

“he likes you,” lena says, smiling as she watches rookie lay in front of me.

“i’m a dog person, and a cat person too but rookie is so cute!!” you bend down to give rookie a scratch behind the ears.

as the afternoon goes on, you and lena fall into an easy rhythm. 

you help her prepare dinner, chopping vegetables while she stirs the sauce on the stove. 

it’s quiet, but not awkward—just peaceful. every now and then, she glances at you, and you catch her staring, but you pretend not to notice.

later, you’re both curled up on the couch, a disney movie playing in the background while rookie lies at your feet. you’re comfortable, your shoulder brushing against hers, and for the first time in a while, you feel... content.

“thanks for today,” you mumble, your head resting on the back of the couch as you glance over at her.

lena looks at you, her expression soft. “i’m just glad you didn’t have to be alone,” she says quietly. 

“you don’t deserve that.”

you swallow, feeling a lump form in your throat. “i’ve been alone for so long, i guess i just got used to it.”

the taller german woman starts to feel an ache in her stomach. everyday she wishes that she could go back and treat you normally on the pitch instead of being a bully. if she knew that you went through this outside of football, she would’ve left you alone. 

lena’s gaze lingers on you as she thinks, something unspoken passing between you. 

“you don’t have to be,” she murmurs, her voice barely above a whisper.

and in that moment, you realize it. the feelings you’ve been trying to push away for months, the ones you tried to convince yourself weren’t real—they’re there. 

but you still have to ask her something, to find closure to the past.

still curled up on her couch with a blanket over your legs, rookie still sprawled out happily at your feet. you never thought you’d be spending christmas with the one person who used to make you burn with anger every time you saw her.

lena is relaxed, and you’re getting there, too, bit by bit. you’re comfortable now—actually comfortable—and you can feel her warmth beside you, feel the weight of how things have changed between you two. the silence is easy, broken only by the soft sound of the movie playing and rookie’s gentle snores.

“can i ask you something?” you say softly, turning to look at her. your voice is careful, not wanting to ruin the moment but needing to know.

lena glances at you, her eyes curious, a small smile playing on her lips. “of course.”

you take a breath, trying to find the right words. 

“why... why did you hate me so much before? back when we were... rivals, i guess. you were so... aggressive, and it always felt like you had something against me. but now you’re... different. so what changed?”

lena looks away, biting her lip like she’s trying to decide how much to say. the tension of the moment makes your chest tighten, but you wait, giving her time. 

after a long pause, she finally speaks.

“i never hated you like i said,” she admits quietly, her eyes focused on the christmas lights twinkling across the room. 

“i know it felt like that, but... it wasn’t hate. it was... god, it was the opposite, really. i talked to lea and jill a lot back then, when i was at wolfsburg, and... i didn’t know how to deal with how i felt about you.”

you tilt your head, furrowing your brow in confusion. “what do you mean?”

lena sighs, running a hand through her hair. “i... asked lea and jill for help. i didn’t know how to get your attention. it sounds stupid now, but... the only way i knew how was... being that way on the pitch. the aggression, the pushing—it was the only way i felt like i could have a piece of you.”

you blink, trying to process her words, the way they seem to pull back the curtain on everything you thought you knew. 

“so, what... you acted like that just to get me to pay attention to you?”

“yeah,” lena says, her voice softening as she looks back at you, meeting your eyes. 

“i was so focused on... being seen by you, even if it was just you being mad at me. it was selfish, and i’m sorry for all of it. it’s not fair that i treated you like that. i feel terrible about it actually”

you’re silent for a moment, and then you let out a soft laugh, shaking your head. “you know... we could’ve been friends from the start. we had so many mutual friends, lena. it’s not like you couldn’t have just... talked to me.”

lena’s smile turns sad, almost regretful. “but i never wanted to be just friends with you,” she says quietly, the words hanging in the air between you. 

“i always wanted more. that’s why... i couldn’t just be nice and friendly like everyone else. it didn’t feel like enough.”

you nod slowly, her words settling into you like the last piece of a puzzle finally clicking into place.

 it’s like understanding something you’ve been grappling with for so long. “i get that,” you whisper. “it was... a lot, though. for a long time, i didn’t know what to make of it. of you.”

“i know,” lena says, and she reaches out, her fingers brushing against your cheek as she tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. “but... i’m not that person anymore. i’ve changed. and i want to be better for you.”

you take a deep breath, feeling the weight of the past start to lift from your shoulders, piece by piece. you realize, in this quiet, cozy moment, that you’re ready to let it go. 

“i finally feel like... like i’ve gotten over the past,” you say softly, your voice steady as you look into her eyes. “and... i forgive you, lena.”

the words are like a release, freeing both of you from everything that came before. lena’s eyes soften, and without thinking, you lean in, pressing your lips to hers in a gentle, tentative kiss. 

it’s soft and sweet, like the world has slowed down around you. she holds your waist and lets you lay down on hers after you pull away. now you’re cuddling as rookie adjusted himself to sit on the other side of lena. 

“i think...” you whisper, smiling as you finally let yourself say it out loud. “i think i’m catching feelings for you, too.”

lena’s eyes light up, and she pulls you closer, her lips finding yours again, this time deeper, more certain. 

"merry christmas," lena whispers, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple after you pulled away again.

"merry christmas," you reply, snuggling into her warmth, knowing that things have totally changed for the better.

part three

[hardersson-stuff]

Something to cheer up the fans. Magda was raising her arms visibly protesting a player fouling Pernille while walking off the pitch 😅

Don't mess with Magda's fiancé even if she's not on the pitch 😅😂

[woso-fan13]

2024 Whumptober 1

No. 1: RACE AGAINST THE CLOCK (Chelsea x reader)

Search Party | Panic Attack | "If only we could hold on.”

Jessie’s phone repeatedly buzzing on the nightstand was enough to pull her from her sleep, clumsy finger searching for the device and pulling it off the charger. 

“Yeah?” she grunts in greeting, still half asleep. 

“Jess,” a frantic voice floods the line, “we need you to get over here now.”

It’s Pernille, Jessie knew that much. She didn’t necessarily know why Pernille was calling at 4am, nor did she know why she had chosen to call her. 

“Wha-?” Jessie cuts herself off. “Pernille, what’s going on? Can’t it wait until morning?”

Silence fills the air for a moment too long to feel comfortable. 

“Y/N’s missing.”

That woke Jessie up, prompting her to grab the closest sweatshirt and be in her car within two minutes, abandoning all sense of road safety. 

She pounds on the familiar front door within 15 minutes of her phone ringing. Magda rips the door open and Jessie can see the brief look of disappointment on her face when she notices it’s not you. Nonetheless, Magda quickly pulls her into a tight hug, holding on as if Jessie is going to disappear. 

Magda pulls back eventually, giving Jessie one last squeeze, and looking at her closely. Jessie is able to force the tiniest of reassuring smiles at Magda before looking past her and into the living room. 

It’s filled with players- all clearly having been pulled from their dreams. At least a dozen heads are looking around, scanning faces like you’ll just appear. 

“Okay,” Magda shouts, always the captain, “everyone grab a partner and pick a few blocks. If you see Y/N, call me or Pernille. We’ll coordinate back here, make sure she’s not alone if she comes back home. Everyone ready?”

There’s a moment where no one moves, waiting for you to pop out from behind a corner and laugh, celebrating successfully tricking your teammates. 

You don’t. 

[summer-princess]

Far From Angry: Hardersson x Reader (Part 1)

Summary: You meet a stranger and her girlfriend at the bar. Things escalate quickly. Pairing: Hardersson x Reader Warnings: 🔞Smut. Mdni🔞 Disclaimer: Obviously fiction Words: 2778

Pt. 2

Ever since you entered the bar, the pretty blonde sitting a few stools away hadn’t taken her eyes off of you. 

You weren’t normally one for going out, especially without your friends, but the sound of music and unseasonably warm night air had drawn you out of your apartment, walking downtown to your favorite bar, ready to enjoy the evening. 

You were certainly enjoying the sight of the beautiful woman in the flowy white top, her sweet smile as she looked across the bar at you.

Her eyes didn’t leave you as she finished her drink, sliding her glass back across the bar. You blushed as she looked away, and you caught a hint of white teeth scraping across a pair of ruby lips. 

Fuck.

Taking a deep breath and gathering your courage, hoping you were interpreting her glances correctly, you hopped up from your stool and walked the few feet between you, hoping you looked more confident than you actually felt. As you sat down on the stool beside her, the pretty blonde tucked her hair behind her ears, turning her head to smile at you again. 

“Hi,” she said, and you caught the slightest hint of an accent, one you couldn’t quite place. 

“I’m Pernille,” she said, turning her stool to face you. She leaned forward, toward you, giving you the same  brilliant smile that had drawn you over in the first place.

You introduced yourself, pleasant shivers running up and down your spine as she made eye contact with you, tilting her head and raising her eyebrows, clearly waiting for you to continue.

“So, Pernille,” you said, matching her posture, hoping to convey just how interested you were in getting to know her and her pretty smile a whole lot better. “Can I buy you a drink?” 

Before she could answer, another blonde appeared over Pernille’s shoulder. Her hair was darker than Pernille’s, and the hand she put on Pernille’s shoulder was attached to a muscled arm.

“What’s going on over here, love?”

Love?

It was like someone had dumped a bucket of ice water over your head as you processed the words.

Love.

She had a girlfriend.

Of course she had a girlfriend.

As the other woman, just as blonde and just as gorgeous, claimed Pernille’s lips with her own, you felt a humiliated blush rising to coat your cheeks. 

You wished that someone would break one of the legs off of the barstool and beat you over the head with it. Or that a freak sinkhole would open beneath the floor, somehow burying only you in the dirt. Because this was beyond your worst nightmares. 

“Fuck,” you whispered, not sure which one of them you were talking to as apologies began to spew from between your lips. 

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t know, I didn’t mean… Fuck, I’ll just-”

You made to stand up, charting the path that would get you to the exit quickest, but before you could make your escape, Pernille reached out and grabbed your hand, clasping it in hers. You let out a tiny gasp, still on your stool, at the contact, your eyes flickering back and forth between your skin touching hers and the woman whose hand had moved from her shoulder to her waist, possessively gripping her flowy white top.

“Don’t go,” she said, voice somewhere between a command and a plea. Even though your heart was racing, your legs longing to carry you far away, it was enough to make you pause.

You looked back and forth between Pernille and her partner, beyond confused. There had been no mistaking the look in your eyes as you approached her, or the undertones when you asked to buy her a drink. But there was also no mistaking the fact that she had a girlfriend, a very pretty and very strong looking girlfriend who had, out of some miracle, not yet put you on the ground. 

“B-But,” you stuttered, trying to make sense of the increasingly odd situation in which you found yourself. 

“Y-You, your girlfriend- She’s already angry enough at me, I-”

You didn’t have time to finish your runaway train of thought before you were unceremoniously interrupted. 

“Do I look angry?”

You didn’t think you could stand looking at Pernille’s girlfriend any longer without wanting to light yourself on fire, so you didn’t. Instead, you stared at your nearly-empty drink, trying to think of how to escape this humiliating and bizarre situation with some of your dignity still intact.

You didn’t see the look they gave each other, but you definitely felt it when a hand grasped your chin, forcing your head upward. A pair of blue eyes met yours, clouded by mirth and something else you couldn’t quite place. Your eyebrow crinkled in confusion at the absence of anything identifiable as anger, a confusion that only grew when she spoke again.

“I’ll ask you again,” she said. “Do I look angry?”

Answering wasn’t optional this time, you could tell. So, trembling a little, you shook your head.

“N-Not really.” 

“Clever girl.”

Her voice, smooth and seductive and just a bit condescending, hit you like a jolt of electricity, and you couldn’t stop the shudder that ran through your body at the tone, from the tips of your fingers to between your legs. You quickly lowered your eyes again, hoping that she wouldn’t notice. 

The self-satisfied smirk on her face made it clear that your hopes were in vain.

“Magda, baby,” said Pernille, standing and taking her place at her partner’s side, tucking herself under the taller woman’s free arm. “I think she likes it when you talk to her like that.” 

Your mouth was slightly open, gaping in shock as you pressed your thighs together, unable to deny the arousal beginning to pool in your core. No matter how embarrassing Pernille’s words might have been, they were undeniable- the condescending tone of Magda’s voice made your mouth water, the need for the two of them to do what they wanted with you taking over your mind. 

“Oh, she’s so cute,” said Pernille, relishing the way you shuddered as she placed her hand on your thigh, fingers sliding upward and creeping closer to the hem of your panties under your new skirt. Magda nodded in agreement.

“Her face is all red,” she said, the two of them exchanging comments as if you couldn’t hear them speaking. You had an idea of where this was going, one that you desperately hoped was correct, and the thought of it made you press your thighs together with need. 

“I wonder what she’d look like all spread out on our bed.”

You gasped quietly, initial arousal only amplifying as they confirmed the thought that had been solidifying in your mind. With a squeeze of Pernille’s hand, Magda took a step forward towards you, her gaze piercing through you and making you whimper again. 

“Do you want this?”

Magda’s breath was hot against your neck as she whispered the question into your ear, and you were sure that she could hear your pulse pounding. 

You nodded so quickly that you could have given yourself whiplash, still gaping in disbelief even as she smirked, helping you to your feet and throwing a wad of cash behind her, payment for the drink you had tried to buy her girlfriend.  

This was actually happening. 

Their apartment was only a few blocks away from the bar, and when they guided you through the door, you had barely kicked off your shoes when you found yourself pressed against the wall by a pair of strong arms.

You hadn’t noticed Magda’s muscles back in the bar when you were refusing to look at her, but now that they were being used to pin you against the wall, they were difficult to ignore. You bit your lip, letting out a little moan, one which she immediately swallowed with her mouth. Magda’s tongue pressed insistently against your lips, and you didn’t waste any time before granting her access, letting her dominate the kiss. 

You weren’t normally this submissive- typically, you would have made at least a token effort to take back some control, but something about these women made that seem like a concept far too difficult and complex to grasp. So you let Magda devour your lips, her hands on your waist as you started to move again.

Guiding you backward into their bedroom, Magda’s hands migrated downward to your ass, giving it a hard squeeze. You could vaguely sense Pernille nearby, a few steps ahead of you, but you couldn’t see the way she’d already shed her top, tossing it carelessly aside as she flicked on the light switch in their bedroom.

When Magda stopped moving, hands on your ass stilling you as well, you felt the other woman come up beside you, but still shivered when she whispered in your ear.

“You gonna do what we tell you, baby? You gonna be a good girl for us?”

The coaxing voice in your ear made you tilt your neck in the opposite direction, exposing the soft skin to Pernille as Magda broke your kiss, releasing you from her hold.

“Uh huh,” you said, and were rewarded by a new pair of warm lips pressed against your own. Pernille’s kiss was dirty and tender at the same time, her pink tongue gentler than Magda’s had been but with a similar level of control and the identical result of making you crave more of her touch. 

“Let us give you what you need, honey,” said Pernille, voice saccharine as she pulled away from your lips. “Let us fuck you like you need to be fucked.”

Your nod was desperate, her words only adding to the copious arousal between your thighs.

“Good. Then strip for us, pretty girl,” she whispered in your ear before releasing her hold on your body, raising an eyebrow and fixing you with a coaxing smirk.

Blinking a few times to regain even a modicum of composure, you blushed as you pulled your shirt over your head, both of the women’s eyes locked on you predatorily as you set the garment atop their wardrobe, revealing your lacy bra. 

“So pretty,” said Magda, as you reached for the hem of your skirt. You had to wiggle your hips to slide out of the slightly-too-small fabric, a sight which made both pairs of eyes locked on you darken, the couple exchanging a look full of hunger. When the garment finally dropped to the floor, leaving you in just your bra and matching panties, you looked back over at them and found the pair exchanging a heated kiss of their own. Sensing your gaze, Magda pulled away from Pernille’s lips to raise an eyebrow at you.

“All of it.”

Your flush deepened as you undid the clasp of your bra, shrugging it off your shoulders and letting it join your skirt and top in the haphazard pile on the floor. With your breasts exposed to their hungry gaze and nipples beginning to harden, unprompted, into peaks, you reached for the waistband of your panties and let them slide down your legs, stepping out of them when they pooled around your ankles. 

You had somehow missed Pernille approaching you, the lighter blonde woman reaching out a hand and slipping it between your legs. You gasped at the sudden contact, unable to stop your hips from jutting forward, seeking friction against your throbbing cunt. 

It only lasted for a moment before she turned her head back towards Magda, giving her a smirk and a nod.

“Get on the bed, pretty girl.”

You nodded quickly, scurrying across the room and seating yourself on the edge of their sizeable mattress. One look from Magda told you that that wasn’t what she had meant and so, still blushing, you laid yourself carefully back against one of their pillows, hyper-aware of their eyes on you, gazes locked on the curve of your breasts and the copious arousal gathered between your pretty thighs.

You could tell what the order of things would be when Pernille walked toward the edge of the bed, lingering beside you without sitting down, and Magda climbed up immediately, her large hands pulling you just slightly further forwards to where she wanted you. 

“Open your fucking legs.”

Magda’s words weren’t a request, but the order was one that you were all too happy to obey. Letting your thighs fall apart, you watched, unbreathing, as the other woman pulled a hair elastic from her wrist and tied her blonde waves up into a careless bun. 

Feeling the bed dip beside you, you heard Pernille’s voice against your neck as she left a trail of kisses across the sensitive skin. 

“Magda’s going to taste you now.”

Barely had the words left her mouth then Magda’s tongue connected with your core, the woman wasting no time before licking a wet stripe over your soaking hole. You gasped, fingernails digging into your palm as you clenched your hands tightly, and the sound must have pleased the other woman, because her soft chuckle vibrated against your core. 

She took a minute to explore, warm appendage tracing a path up and down your cunt, unmoved by your breathy pleas for her to go faster, or to put her mouth on the one place you needed it most. 

“Patience, honey,” crooned Pernille, noticing your gyrating hips. “Stay still. Let her enjoy you.”

You sobbed in pleasure as Magda’s tongue swiped through your pussy again and again, Pernille’s soft hands tugging at your nipples. The woman between your thighs was talented, the wet muscle of her mouth lapping and kissing all the right spots, finally running her tongue across your swollen clit, even letting a hint of teeth scrape across your thigh once in a while.

You couldn’t have closed your legs if you wanted to, a combination of Magda’s shoulders and her hands combining to hold them open.

“Stay still,” she reminded you with a gentle smack to one of your thighs.

Still, you couldn’t help but buck against her tongue, trying to get her mouth back on your clit.

“I told you to stay still,” said Magda with a growl, strong hands pushing your hips back down to the mattress.

A shudder ran up and down your body at her harsh tone. Pernille, you noticed, now had one hand on each of your tits, the strength in her arms a warning that, if you moved again, she wouldn’t hesitate to use that muscle to keep you pinned down with no choice except to take what her partner gave.

Your body shook with the effort of keeping still, of not allowing your hips to rock against Magda’s tongue, but you were rewarded by attention lavished on your bud, able to feel the other woman’s smile against your cunt.

You shuddered, feeling your muscles tighten as your peak began to grow closer. Apparently Magda could sense it as well, because she pulled her mouth away from you and reached for her girlfriend.

Pernille obeyed the summons, leaving you writhing on the bed, whining pathetically at the loss of contact as Magda pulled her in for a deep kiss. Your eyes went to the two women, unable to stop a groan as you watched them, Magda’s hands wrapped around Pernille’s waist as their tongues battled. As hot as the sight was, it only made you wetter as you realized that they were sharing the taste of you between them. 

Even through your haze, you knew that, no matter how desperate your cunt was for their attention, you couldn’t let your fingers drift down between your legs. They had made it clear since you met that they held the reins of control, that you were their plaything for the night.

“Pernille,” said Magda, rocking her hips subtly as Pernille pressed a line of wet kisses along her neck. 

“Look at her.”

Pernille’s eyes drifted back toward you, wriggling desperately on the bed, twisting your hands in their covers as you fought not to touch yourself. 

“God,” said Pernille. “She’s desperate, isn’t she?”

You made no move to deny her claim, rather nodding in confirmation. Any shock or disbelief you had felt at the situation you were in had certainly vanished, replaced with pure, undiluted need. 

“Please,” you whimpered, soaking pussy still perfectly visible between your spread legs. “Please, I need…”

You trailed off, the blush that was quickly becoming a familiar companion returning once again to your cheeks. Luckily for you, Pernille was able to translate the low moan which replaced the words you couldn’t find.

“I think she needs your cock, Magda.”

[tresjoline]

The moment:

The photo:

🎥📸💪👋🫶

[katelynnwrites]

the girls that get it, get it 😂

[lucawrites11]

THEY ARE ENGAGED

[alexbkrieger13]

https://www.instagram.com/stories/jovanadamnjanovic9/3527350787953976436?igsh=MTVzaWk2dm1rYjcwcw==

Funny how Magda and P are looking here

[woso-dreamzzz]

Proud IX

Hardersson x Teen!Reader

Fridolina Rolfö x Teen!Reader

Summary: After the preseason against Barcelona

Someone is watching you.

It's nothing you can prove, of course. It's nothing you really care that much about either.

You've just managed to draw against Barcelona in a preseason friendly. Of course there would be someone watching. A lot of someones actually but you don't find yourself minding too much as you head over to your parents.

They're on the far side of the pitch, waving to the very few Spanish Bayern fans that have come out to watch the team play.

You wiggle your way between them and Magda's arm automatically comes to rest on your shoulder. She angles her face towards you slightly, a smile on her face as she presses a quick kiss to your hairline.

Pernille takes your hand on the other side and you smile at her, leaning your head against her shoulder.

It feels good to demonstrate your skills.

In front of your new teammates. In front of your new manager. In front of Barcelona, to make them worry when you're on the pitch, to show them they aren't as bulletproof as the fans think they are.

But, right now, all you can do is smile as your sign things for the very few Bayern fans that have come over to watch your team play for them.

"You did very well today," Pernille says to you, squeezing your hand softly.

"Enough for a lamb?"

"You know the rules," Pernille replies with practiced exasperation," You'll have to really impress. Show me you can really care for one."

You huff, putting on a bit of a show.

This is a practiced dance between you and Pernille, a more playful back and forth now that you've moved to Germany. Pernille pretends that she's more opposed to getting a sweet lamb than she actually is and you pretend to be more annoyed than you actually are that you're being refused.

"Oh come on, Pernille!" Magda says from your other side," I really think she's deserved it!"

Magda's also apart of all this teasing. She backs you up, insists that you've already proven yourself despite having never had a pet in your life. The extent of your animal caring abilities is filling up the bird feeder in the garden.

Of course, you've also got that little binder you made a few years ago with how to take care of lambs and sheep and when to sheer them and what to feed them and how you can make them happy.

Pernille had made you make it after she realised you were serious about raising a lamb for yourself.

You update it every so often, just to show her that this isn't something that you've forgotten about.

Arms close around your waist and you shriek as you're lifted into the air.

You can hear Pernille and Magda laugh as you're hoisted up and you flail your legs around when you're airborne for too long.

"Frido!" You shriek," Let me down!"

Frido shakes you, using her height difference against you before unceremoniously dumping you onto the ground.

You roll onto your back, panting with a smile as you look up at her. "That was mean."

"What has the world come to?" She asks no one in particular," That an aunt can't pick up and shake her little niece anymore?"

"I'm not little."

She grins down at you. "I remember you before your growth spurt," She says," You'll always be my little niece."

Frido offers you a hand.

You take it and pull her down.

She shrieks at the sudden force of your pull and falls onto the grass next to you.

You laugh, letting Pernille help you up and dust the dirt off your shirt.

Frido does the same with her own clothes, flicking a stray piece of grass at you that you bat away easily.

"Good game," She says, ruffling your hair," You had us on our toes."

"Just..." You glance behind you, feeling that same prickly feeling of eyes on your back," Just wanted to impress."

"Well, you certainly did that." Frido leans closer, like she's about to tell you a secret. "But I don't think it's just on who you wanted to watch you."

She jerks her chin over your shoulder and you follow her gaze.

Alexia Putellas is by the bench, talking and gesturing wildly over at you to the new Barcelona manager. You don't quite remember his name but you know what he looks like and even from this far of a distance away, you know he's looking straight at you.

"Best hope Bayern put a big price on her release clause," Frido says to your mothers and you feel Magda freeze behind you.

Her mouth dry, she speaks. "What?"

"Just saying," Frido laughs," A performance like that? In preseason? At a club she's just moved to? You and I both know she's a talent. Alexia doesn't really enjoy talents like that outside of Barcelona."

Magda pulls your back against her front, arms hanging over your shoulders. "They can't have her. She's a minor. They need our permission."

"She'll be eighteen soon," Frido reminds Magda.

"Still. They can't force her to come. I won't let them. I just got her back."

"We just got her back," Pernille corrects.

"Besides," You laugh," Momma won't even let me get a lamb yet. I don't think she'll be too happy sending me off to Spain."

Frido laughs, ruffling your hair again. "I think you'll find Barcelona can be quite persuasive when they need to be. How else do you think we got Ewa with us?"

"Dumb luck?"

Frido gasps dramatically. "You know what, young lady? Come here!"

She reaches for you and you duck out of the way, sprinting across the pitch out of her reach.

"You're getting old!" You shout over your shoulder, ducking and weaving through players and staff alike. "Aren't you meant to be a professional athlete?"

You jump over a crate of drinks as Frido trips over them.

You laugh, leaving her in the dirt as another hand reaches for your own.

"Aren't you tired?" Ingrid asks you," You've just played ninety minutes."

You know Ingrid quite well considering you've never played on a team with her.

Pernille and Frido have introduced you two a lot over the years. She's nice to see, someone who is not family but just as nice as them.

"I'm never too tired to humiliate Frido," You answer, turning to look back as Pernille helps Frido up while Magda howls with laughter.

Ingrid rolls her eyes fondly at you, brushing a few stray strands of hair out of your face.

"Have you met Esmee before? I can't remember."

Either way, Ingrid introduces you to Esmee, who seems nice enough, if a little shy. You can imagine you and her getting on once you're both settled with each other.

"Of course, you know Mapi a bit and this is Aitana. Aitana, this is y/n. She's Magda and Pernille's daughter, Frido's niece."

"Daughter?" The look Aitana wears on her face is one you're always used to when regarding your parentage.

"Adopted," You confirm with a nod. It's always better to explain now than have to deal with the awkward questions as people try to tread around the minefield that's your family situation.

She nods once before speaking. "Do you want to swap shirts?"

"Oh! Er..." You glance behind you where your family is (thankfully) keeping their distance. Still within earshot but not enough to invite themselves into the conversation.

Both of your mothers stick their thumbs up at you.

"Yeah...okay, then."

Like you thought, you and Esmee do get on. You reckon that you wearing a Barcelona shirt (Aitana's Barcelona shirt, you think in the back of your mind) must have settled her a bit. Familiar people with the one unfamiliar one wearing a very familiar colours.

She's nice and speaks well and you almost forget about the prickling feeling of someone watching you until that someone is right behind you.

The little circle you've found yourself in opens up and Alexia Putellas slides into the now empty spot next to you.

Magda moves to approach as well but Pernille holds her back by the back of the shirt.

"Pernille-"

"Let her deal with it," Pernille says," However she wants to do it. We can't coddle her for her whole life."

Magda pouts. "We can try."

"Magda," Pernille continues," She's much more capable than you like to think."

You hope that your eyes aren't as wide in shock as you think they are. it would be embarrassing for Alexia Putellas to remember that expression as the one you wore when you first met her.

"You had a good game," She says to you and you feel your throat go dry.

You force words out anyway. "Th-Thank you."

"A great game, actually," Alexia continues," You're very talented."

"Thank you."

You feel like a broken record, incapable of saying nothing but the same thing over and over again.

"How long have you got on your Bayern contract?"

"Two-Two years."

"Two years? Not three? Or four? For someone of your talent..."

"Oh, er, well, it's meant to finish the same time as my mothers' do."

"Harder and Eriksson's kid, aren't you?"

"And Frido's niece," Ingrid puts in and Alexia nods.

"I thought so. She's never had anything but compliments for you. You used to play for Arsenal as well, didn't you?"

"Yes."

"And you joined Sweden for their Euro qualifiers as well. It's nice to see that young talent is being fostered so well."

You laugh a little awkwardly. "Oh, well, I'm not really anything special."

The look Alexia gives you makes it clear she thinks differently. She doesn't refute your claim though, just purses her lips in thought.

"Barcelona has always been good at noticing young talent and putting our faith in them."

"Oh?"

She smiles at you. "Just something to think about. Have you got the same managers as your mothers?"

You nod. "Yeah, Morsa...Er...Magda and I have the same person."

"Excellent." She claps a hand down onto your shoulder. "You should probably warn them about something coming their way soon after that performance today. I hope to see you on the pitch again soon."

With that, Alexia Putellas walks away, right back down the tunnels and you're left hopelessly looking back at her.

You turn back to the little group around you, a group that your family has finally joined again.

"Sorry...What just happened?"

Frido laughs, a casual arm flung over your shoulder.

"That was Alexia speak for 'Barcelona will be trying to buy you from Bayern soon'."

Magda swears. "For fuck's sake!"

[woso4-life]

Woso selfies appreciation

[grapefruit-personified]

My favorite woso couples are all getting married 🥺

[meazalykov]

platonic?

catarina macario x younger!uswnt!reader

summary: your admiration for the older woman turns into a crush

warnings: three year age gap, long chapter

you are twenty-two lacing up for the next game with chelsea, the weight of the blue jersey settling around you like armor.  

this wasn’t new; you’d been doing this since seventeen, since you were a kid at the world cup, barely knowing how to handle all the pressure the world threw at you while winning one of the best trophies a footballer can have. 

somehow, you’d found yourself. at the end of 2019 you went on loan to lyon from gotham, ready to prove your talent to the best audience. 

you weren’t exactly alone though—there was catarina.

being eighteen when you first met catarina, fresh-faced and wide-eyed, you stepped into the lyon training grounds with the kind of awe you couldn’t hide. 

you were on loan, adjusting to life in a new country with a language you barely spoke, and everything felt monumental, as if even the smallest mistakes would echo. 

catarina, twenty-one, was already established and calm, someone who seemed to carry the weight of experience with ease– especially for someone who was young herself. 

she spotted you from across the pitch during your first training session, a quick flash of recognition in her smile as she walked over, her strides confident and sure. 

“hey!!! you’re from new york, right?” she asked, her tone light but curious, that american accent instantly grounding.

“yeah,” you replied, trying not to seem too overwhelmed.

“just... here for a season, you know?”

she grinned. 

“good. i was starting to miss american familiarity here.”

from that moment, a kind of natural mentorship developed between you. 

the three-year difference felt both small and huge; it wasn’t just the age, but the way she carried herself, the calm authority of someone who’d already figured a few things out. in frace, you could go with her anywhere. in america, she was allowed to attend the 21+ places while you had to stay behind with the young national teammates in the hotel rooms. 

little did you know, catarina knew what it was like to leave home for a career, to adapt, and maybe she saw a bit of herself in you, struggling to find your place.

you noticed the steady way she’d watch you on the field, the way she’d wait until after training to approach, giving pointers with a casual tone that softened the critique. 

“you’re trying to force the pass too soon. the forward could never get it without the defender clearing it away,” she’d say once, tossing you the ball after practice as you wiped the sweat off of your forehead with the blue lyon training kit. 

“take a breath, let the play build.”

she’d take the time to show you, positioning you on the field, demonstrating how to look for space, to feel the tempo of the game like it was a second pulse. 

“you’ve got great instincts and speed,” she’d say after you’d gotten it right, her voice warm with approval. 

“just trust them a bit more.”

it wasn’t only on the field that she guided you. early on, when you stumbled over french phrases at cafes or struggled with the simplest exchanges, she’d be there, patient and amused. 

the woman with brazilian ethnicity already knew a few languages. you didn’t, only growing up needing to speak english with very basic levels of spanish. 

sitting in a café with catarina, selma, and amandine–you squinted down at the menu, wrestling with a word that looked more intimidating than it probably was. 

“i can never get this one,” you muttered, half to yourself, as she leaned over your shoulder with a quiet smile.

“that one’s croque-monsieur,” she said, saying it slowly. 

“it’s like fancy– what do you guys call it, grilled cheese?” selma grinned with her strong french accent as you looked at catarina with suspicion. 

“she's right. you’ll like it, trust us.”

“croque-mon-seur?” you tried. all of the girls laughed while catarina started shaking her head. 

“you’ll get it,” she said, giving you a light nudge. 

as weeks turned into months, her presence became something you leaned on without realizing. she’d taken on this mentor role easily, with the kind of warmth that let you feel less alone in a new place. 

she taught you bits of french, not only in words but in the quiet encouragement she offered, like the language itself was something you could share.

on the field, you started to shadow her during drills, watching how she played as an attacking mid—the same position as you. you found yourself asking questions, hungry to learn more even with skill abnormal for a youngster.

cata always answered with that patient tone, never making you feel as though you were asking too much.

during national breaks, there's always a different energy. a familiar choas you’ve come to love since being called up in the 2019 world cup. 

being back with the uswnt squad feels like stepping visiting old friends– because you are. catarina is steady, and calm. on the national team though, you’re usually the one starting over her, especially as the attacking mid, unlike at lyon due to the amount of caps you have over the woman that's older than you. 

she never lets any jealousy slip, always the first to give a pat on the back or a quiet word of praise that lingers more than it probably should.

the locker room screams with excitement before the friendly against portugal, and you’re tying up your signature purple boots, mentally running through the plays. 

suddenly, cat is sitting beside you, her familiar grin softening the tension that’s been settling in your shoulders. maybe its her hands resting your shoulders too.

“you look ready to score a hat trick today,” she murmurs, nudging your shoulder. 

“don’t push it,” you laugh. 

“starting lineup, a vet on the team. you notice how much the coaches and the staff trust you, huh?”

you manage a smile, a bit of heat creeping to your face. 

“they’re trusting me to just... you know, not mess it up too bad.”

she scoffs lightly, her hand moving down to rest on your arm. 

“y/n, you’re seriously too humble,” she says, voice low and just between the two of you. 

“i’ve watched you since i met you in lyon. you have this... confidence, even when you don’t realize it. you don’t just belong here; you are the standard. do you know how insane that is being nineteen years old,” the twenty-two year old rants.

your face feels hot, and you look down, hoping she doesn’t notice the slight blush you can feel creeping up. 

“yeah, well, it’s just pre-game stuff, you know? everyone gets this way.”

she tilts her head, a small smile playing at her lips. 

“sure, if ‘pre-game stuff’ means having every player watching you just to see how it’s done or what to do next.” she moves closer, her voice dropping even lower. 

“you’re more than good, y/n. i’d watch you play any day.”

the words linger, carrying a weight you don’t want to examine too closely. she’s always been supportive, always the first to praise you, but somehow her words feel different today, more intense, and it settles in your chest, creating a strange, fluttering warmth you refuse to acknowledge.

“thanks, cat,” you mumble, fiddling with your shin guard. 

“i just... i appreciate it. and you know, don’t be too complimentary. i still have to actually do my job out there.”

she laughs, soft and genuine, her hand squeezing your arm before pulling away. 

“oh, don’t worry. i’ll be out there to keep you in check if your ego gets too big.”

just as you try to shake off the blush spreading across your cheeks, she leans in, her eyes catching yours in a way that makes it impossible to look away. “but, y/n,” she murmurs, her voice softer, almost affectionate, “don’t hold back out there.” 

you swallow, heart thudding harder than usual. 

“i… yeah. yeah, no holding back.”

she smirks, giving you one last, lingering glance before she walks away, leaving you trying to convince yourself that your racing pulse is just the pre-game jitters.

skipping two months later– you were so happy winning the champions league with lyon. you felt as if you were standing at the peak of everything you’d worked toward.

the final whistle echoed in your ears, your teammates’ arms wrapped around you in victory since you delivered a goal and two assists for the 4-2 win.

right there beside you was catarina, her face alight with that mix of joy and pride that only winning a title brings. the two of you had spent a year pushing each other to new limits, and this—this win felt like the culmination of everything. 

the celebration was wild, electric, stretching late into the night, but a bittersweet feeling hung in the back of your mind. 

you knew what came next: you’d have to return to new york, back to gotham.

a week back in new york, trying to settle back into familiar routines, you still found yourself thinking about lyon, about that feeling of playing on european soil, where the game felt more appreciated. 

the stakes somehow higher. you missed the thrill, the challenge, and most of all, you missed catarina’s presence on the field, her constant encouragement, her quiet, steady influence.

and then the call came from chelsea.

it was unexpected, a five-year contract offered by the london club, and the details? promising—more than you’d hoped for. it was an opportunity to stay in europe, to grow in a league you’d admired from afar, and in that instant, the decision felt like a piece of fate falling into place. 

chelsea felt right, like the next step, and the choice was almost immediate. within days, you found yourself preparing for a new chapter in london.

it’s 2022, and as you settle into your new life in london, there’s a sense of excitement that only grows with each passing day. the new team, the city, the endless possibilities—it feels fresh, like you’re on the edge of something big. 

yet, in quiet moments, you feel a pang of nostalgia for your year in lyon, for the late-night talks with catarina after long training days, the ease of sharing the same field, the bond you’d built. 

at chelsea, you built a good bond with all of your teammates. you’ve gotten to be close friends with lauren while having magda as your mentor. 

you missed catarina though, you had no idea why. she’d been more than just a teammate—she’d been a friend, a mentor, and you knew that her absence at the club level would be felt deeply.

you remind yourself that national breaks aren’t far off. you’ll see her again soon enough, the familiar red, white, and blue kit would be uniting you once more.

at chelsea, your time quickly became more than just playing football; it felt like finding a new family. 

magdalena, with her calm authority and easy smile, became an older sister figure, a presence you leaned on during tough games or even just long training sessions. pernille was right there beside her, offering a comforting mix of humor and insight that kept you grounded. 

together, they were like this solid, reassuring pair, and they had a way of making you feel like you belonged.

emma, your coach, saw something in you which is why she wanted you at the club per her request. she pushes you forward and shapes you into a player who could meet the intensity of the league.

 

her guidance, paired with the steady support of magda and pernille, along with your now bestfriend lauren, helped you grow both on and off the field.

at the end of the 22/23 season, magda and pernille gathered you aside after a practice session, their expressions a bit more serious than usual. magda was the first to speak.

“we wanted you to hear it from us,” she started, giving your arm a light squeeze. 

“pernille and i are… we’re leaving chelsea.”

you blinked, trying to process. 

“wait, leaving? like… transferring?”

pernille nodded, her smile soft but sad. 

“to bayern. it’s… it’s a chance for us to play together in germany, and we felt like this was the right time.”

you felt a pang in your chest, sadness bubbling up because you couldn’t imagine chelsea without them. but you couldn’t hold back a smile either, one that came from genuine happiness for them. 

“i’m gonna miss you both,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper, 

“but i’m so happy you’re doing this together.”

magda pulled you into a hug, her arms warm and steady around you. 

“you’ll always have us, no matter where we go.”

you laughed, hugging them both tightly. 

“and i expect updates… lots of them.”

it wasn’t long after they left when lauren walked up to you one morning in the lounge, an unusual grin on her face.

as you were twirling your iced coffee together, making sure the creamer mixed well with the blonde coffee, lauren stops your wrist with a smirk. 

“heard the news?” lauren asked, a twinkle in her eye.

“what news?” you replied, eyebrows raised as you sit the paper cup down on the counter.

“your friend catarina is coming to chelsea. emma signed her on for a few seasons.”

you laughed, shaking your head. 

“yeah, right, lauren.”

lauren can be a jokster sometimes. however, she crossed her arms, looking far too pleased with herself. 

“seriously. emma wanted her on the team, and cat’s contract with lyon was up. she’ll be here to visit us at training soon.”

the idea sounded impossible, almost surreal. cat, here? with you, at chelsea?

it wasn’t until you saw her stepping onto the training field, a black crossbody bag slung over her shoulder, that it hit you. you froze, hardly believing your eyes until she spotted you, her familiar smile breaking across her face. 

before you knew it, you were running toward her, your feet barely touching the ground as you threw yourself into her arms.

“cat!” you exclaimed, nearly breathless.

she laughed, pulling you into a tight hug. 

“hey! god, it’s good to see you.”

pulling back, making sure to consider her knee injury, you couldn’t help but grin, words spilling out all at once. 

“i can’t believe you’re here! lauren told me, but i thought she was messing with me.”

cat shook her head, her own smile warm and genuine as she holds your waist. 

“nope, it’s real. looks like we’re back on the same team.”

just as you opened your mouth to ask about training together, her expression shifted, a slight grimace.

“i know, but with my knee its going to be a while.”  she hesitated, glancing down at her knee. 

“its alright, you’ll come back stronger!” you smile, your dimples showing as you show catarina around the place before you had to go to training practice. 

six months later– it’s 2024. catarina’s first day to light training feels like an event, with the entire team gathered in the gym to show support for her coming back from an acl injury. 

everyone’s happy, cheering her on as she settles in for her workout. you stand close by, eyes fixed on her as she picks up the barbell, your attention unwavering. this is a huge step for cat, and you want to be there for her.

as cat positions herself to start her barbell step-ups, sjoeke moves in, hands up, ready to help spot her. 

“i got you, cat,” she says with a smile, stepping up beside her.

before you realize it, you’re already speaking, your voice coming out firm, almost a little too quick as you step behind cat beside sjoeke. 

“no, it’s fine, sjo. i’ll help her.” 

sjoeke pauses, raising an eyebrow at your tone, her smile shifting into something almost skeptical. she looks between you and cat, the air thick with a subtle tension. 

“really?” she asks, voice edged with a hint of challenge. 

“because i can spot her, y/n.”

“i don’t mind,” you insist, feeling the warmth creep up your neck, realizing how eager you sound. 

“i can handle it.”

there’s a beat of silence, the weight of your words hanging in the air, and sjoeke’s expression softens, the hint of a smirk playing at the corner of her mouth. her eyes narrow slightly, an amused glint in her gaze as she takes in your stance, the way your attention doesn’t waver from cat. 

she puts her hands up, taking a step back with a knowing look. 

“alright, y/n. she’s all yours.”

the team’s eyes are on you as you step into place beside catarina, your focus sharpening as you move in to spot her. cat glances up, smiling at you. 

“thanks,” she says softly, her eyes warm, trusting.

“anytime,” you murmur, feeling the faintest flicker of nerves as you help steady her. your hands hover near her shoulders, close enough to catch her if needed, your gaze lingering on her face longer than you intended. 

she doesn’t seem to notice, focused on her workout, but you can’t help the way your eyes trace the line of her jaw, the curve of her shoulders, the way her breath deepens with each step up. 

there’s an intimacy in the moment that feels almost palpable, and you struggle to tear your gaze away, as if caught in something you’re not ready to admit to.

from the wall, lauren’s leaning back, watching with a bemused smile as you stay glued to cat’s side, every bit the protective spotter. 

when she catches the way you look at cat, something just a bit too intense, she comes over to you after you finish helping cat.

“so,” lauren starts, her voice a low murmur, 

“what’s with that look?”

you shoot her a glance, brushing it off. 

“what look?”

she raises an eyebrow, grinning. 

“you’re looking at her like she’s a piece of cheesecake or some shit?”

“i don’t know,” you mutter, shrugging, trying to keep your tone casual, but lauren isn’t buying it.

“right, you just happened to nearly elbow sjoeke out of the way to help her.” she nudges you, clearly entertained as you walk out of the gym area with lauren following. 

“i didn’t know you were so... possessive.”

“i’m just helping a teammate, lauren,” you say, a bit more defensively than you meant.

she laughs, exchanging a look with katie, who’s been watching with a raised eyebrow. 

“teammate, huh? well, looks like you’re a really supportive one. maybe you could give me a back massage,”

“gross,” you laugh while rolling your eyes playfully. 

you make your way to the lounge, hoping to avoid further questions. as you step in, ashley, mille, and zecira are all sitting together, looking up as lauren walks in behind you, a mischievous glint in her eye.

“guys, guess what i just saw,” lauren announces, voice full of laughter. 

“y/n practically staking a claim on catarina during training.”

you feel the heat rising to your face, reaching for a protein bar to keep your hands busy. 

“lauren, do you ever shut up?” you mutter, trying to play it off, but the room erupts in laughter.

ashley shakes her head, grinning wide. 

“i fucking knew it! i knew you had a little thing for cat.”

“please,” you scoff, rolling your eyes as you open the protein bar. 

“you all have overactive imaginations.”

just as you think you might have a chance to let it blow over… sam, who sits on the couch beside mille, finishes her call with her fiance kristie, her voice carrying a hint of amusement. 

“so, y/n,” she starts, her grin just as playful, 

“you gonna do something about this little crush, or what?”

you sigh, taking a bite of the protein bar. 

“what crush?”

everyone around you laughs, clearly not fooled, and as much as you try to deny it, you can’t shake the way your heart jumps whenever you’re around cat.

march 2024 arrives and it feels like the start of something new and familiar all at once. it’s game day against leicester city, but there’s an extra pulse of excitement coursing through the chelsea locker room as everyone pulls on their light blue kits. 

for you, this game holds a different kind of significance: it’s the first time you’ll be sharing the pitch with catarina since your days at lyon, and though she won’t be starting, just knowing she’s there—back from the injury that’s kept her away from the game she loves—adds a layer of warmth to everything.

you catch her watching you from across the locker room, her gaze dropping from your eyes to linger as you adjust your shirt and tug on your socks. it’s almost enough to make your breath hitch, and it doesn’t help that the kit has a snug fit, a sleek light blue that seems to catch her attention. 

her eyes trail up slowly, as if she’s memorizing every detail, and when her gaze meets yours, she looks away with a small, shy smile. 

erin, sitting beside her, sees it all and nudges cat in the shoulder with a smirk that says she’s absolutely onto her.

the pre-game energy is high as you head out onto the field, and while you’d usually be in the midfield, today you’re positioned as left-back. the shift feels strange, like wearing a jacket that’s just slightly too big. you tell yourself to adjust, to focus on the rhythm of the game and do your part.

as the whistle blows and the play begins, you find yourself absorbed in the moment, thoughts of cat lingering but pushed to the back as you settle into the role.

in the 38th minute, an opportunity opens. bjorn is making a move toward the box, slipping past defenders, her eyes focused and ready. you’re aware of the ball at your feet, feeling the familiar weight of it as you move up the wing. scanning the field, you find the angle and send a cross sailing toward bjorn, hoping she’ll connect. 

she times her jump perfectly, meeting the ball with a header that sends it directly into the net. the crowd erupts, a sea of blue cheering as your teammates swarm bjorn in celebration. 

a grin spreads across your face, pride surging as you run back to position, your gaze flicking to the bench where you spot cat clapping, her eyes on you, the corners of her mouth pulled into an admiring smile.

the game presses on, and in the 44th minute, you spot another chance. mayra’s waiting near the edge of the box, finding an opening just wide enough for a clean shot. slipping past the defender, you send the ball right to her feet. 

she doesn’t waste a second, taking the shot and sending it straight into the net with a perfect strike. you jump on her back in celebration, happy to give the second assist for a player that is out of position.

it's 2-0 before halftime, and as you jog back, you’re buzzing with the energy of the lead.

the walk to the locker room is filled with celebratory chatter, but as soon as you settle onto the bench, your mind starts to go over every play. being out of position has you feeling exposed, vulnerable in a way that’s hard to shake. 

you sit there, running through every mistake, every step you might have taken wrong, the weight of your own expectations pressing down on your shoulders.

even with the two assists, you’re surprised that no defensive errors you’ve committed ended up with a conceding goal. 

you’re so lost in thought that you don’t notice cat coming up beside you until her hand lands gently on your shoulder, her voice soft and soothing. 

“hey,” she murmurs, leaning in slightly so only you can hear. 

“you’re doing great out there. seriously, y/n.”

you manage a nod, though your shoulders still feel tense. she must notice, because without a word, she pulls you into a hug, her arms wrapping around you in a way that feels grounding. 

the warmth of her hand on your back, tracing gentle circles, starts to ease the tension, her touch a reminder to breathe.

“you’ve got this,” she whispers, her voice steady and close, almost like a secret between the two of you. 

“you’re holding it down out there, trust me. emma even said that you’re doing great defensively for someone that's mainly an attacker.”

you let yourself lean into her a little more, savoring the reassurance, her breath warm against your temple. it feels grounding, safe, and for a moment, you don’t want to let go. 

there’s something about the way her arms hold you, strong yet gentle, that makes the anxiety ebb away, leaving a warmth that has nothing to do with the game.

just then, sjoeke clears her throat from across the room. 

“gross,” she calls out, a playful grin on her face. 

“get a room, you two.”

you and cat pull back, laughing, though you feel the heat rush to your face as she lets go, her hand lingering on your arm for a moment longer than necessary. 

“thanks, cat,” you say softly, offering her a smile.

“anytime,” she replies, her gaze lingering, warm and full of something you can’t quite name.

you head back out for the second half, but she stays on the bench, still recovering, cheering from the sidelines. knowing she’s there, watching, makes you feel a little lighter, your movements sharper, steadier. 

it’s the 72nd minute, you’re  focused on pushing up the left flank, linking up with your attackers, and keeping your defensive responsibilities in check. your eyes scan the field, watching for openings, and it’s only when you catch lauren jogging toward the sideline and the fourth ref holding up the number board that you realize who’s coming on in her place. 

catarina is stepping onto the pitch, and despite your efforts to keep composed, a bright smile tugs at your lips. this is the first time in so long that you’ll be playing together, and for once, you let yourself admit it, if only silently—you have a crush on her.

you turn your attention back to the field, your heart beating a little quicker, that sense of familiarity and excitement building with each touch of the ball. 

she’s out here with you now, right where you’ve wanted her to be, and knowing she’s nearby is enough to make you feel even more determined.

in the 78th minute, you get the ball near midfield and start driving up, your pace quickening as you swerve around a few defenders. your feet are light, every movement fluid as you weave through their attempts to block you. 

when you reach the edge of the box, you catch sight of cat, her positioning perfect. without a second thought, you use the outside of your foot to send a quick pass in her direction, the ball rolling smoothly toward her.

cat doesn’t hesitate. she meets the ball with a precise kick, sending it past the goalkeeper and straight into the net. 

as the crowd erupts, you can’t help the excitement that surges through you. before you know it, you’re running toward her, a wide grin on your face, arms open as you close the distance.

“cat!” you shout, laughter in your voice as you reach her, wrapping her in a hug. her arms come around you instantly, holding you tight, and for a moment, it feels like the entire stadium fades away, leaving just the two of you in the center of the pitch.

“we did it,” she murmurs, her voice soft, just for you to hear.

“that was all you!” you cheer.

you feel her grip on you tighten, and your heart swells as the rest of the team joins in, everyone piling into the group hug, laughter and cheers filling the air.

the game’s finally  over, and the stadium is cheering with the energy of chelsea’s victory. you’ve got a genuine grin on your face, eyes drawn to cat as she makes her way through a string of congratulatory hugs from the team. 

she’s radiant, practically glowing in the aftermath of the match, and watching her light up like that stirs something deep within you. but, as thrilled as you are for her, there’s a quiet, nagging feeling creeping up in your chest.

a thought crosses your mind—would she ever really want to be with you? maybe you’re too young, too inexperienced for someone like her. what if she doesn’t even like women? the doubts start stacking up in your mind as you watch her laughing with the others, and it’s impossible to shake the feeling of insecurity as it clouds over your happiness, just for a moment.

emma notices your gaze, the way your smile flickers, and sidles up beside you. 

“everything alright?” she asks, her tone casual but her eyes knowing.

you hesitate, then decide to be honest. 

“i just... i don’t know. it’s nothing, really,” you mumble, but emma doesn’t let it go.

“it doesn’t look like nothing,” she says with a small smile, glancing over at cat. 

“you know, it’s pretty obvious on both sides.”

you blink, taken aback. 

“both sides?”

emma nods. 

“cat likes you too. maybe she doesn’t always show it in the ways you expect, but... it’s there. the entire team can see it.”

her words sink in, warm and reassuring, but also nerve-wracking. what does that mean? do you dare to take it seriously?

before you can ask more, emma steps away, and cat is suddenly in front of you again, grinning and pulling you into a tight, warm hug. the embrace is so close, her arms wrapping around you in a way that feels like more than just a friendly gesture. 

you can feel the steadiness of her breathing, the warmth of her body against yours, and a part of you wishes you could stay like this, here in her arms, forever.

neither of you says anything, and in the quiet of the moment, you’re just holding each other, lost in the feeling. around you, you notice a few chelsea fans snapping pictures, murmurs about a possible new couple, but you don’t even care. 

you’re caught up in her warmth, in the closeness, until you finally let go, smiling softly at her.

later, as the team heads off, you invite a few people over to your apartment to relax. most are too tired to celebrate, and honestly, you’re relieved—hosting company sounds exhausting after a long day, and you’re happy enough to have a quiet night to yourself. 

you head home, showering and settling into your soft pajamas, the contentment from the day still making you smile.

you’re about to head to bed when a knock at the door catches your attention. curious, you pad over and look through the peephole, only to see cat standing there, hands in her sweatpant pockets, looking slightly unsure. 

you quickly unlock and open the door, blinking at her in surprise.

“cat, what are you doing here? it’s almost midnight,” you say, though a grin creeps onto your face.

she shrugs, grinning back. 

“you did say you were hosting company, didn’t you?”

you chuckle, stepping aside to let her in. 

“okay, you got me. want something to drink? i’ve got water, maybe some juice…”

she watches you as you head to the kitchen, her eyes flicking over you, taking in your comfortable clothes and how your body fits in them. 

“water’s fine,” she says, though her gaze lingers a little longer, sending a flutter through your stomach.

you hand her the glass, and as she takes it, you notice her eyes lingering again, tracing over your face, down to your lips, then quickly looking away. the subtle glances have your heartbeat picking up, the room suddenly feeling warmer. 

the way she’s looking at you is... different. intense. it’s as if there’s something unspoken between you, simmering beneath the surface.

she catches you watching her and raises an eyebrow, a smirk playing at the corners of her mouth. 

“why are you looking at me like that?”

caught off guard, you feel the heat rising to your cheeks, but, with the comfort of your apartment and the courage you feel just from being around her, you answer truthfully. 

“because... you look beautiful,” you say softly, your voice barely above a whisper. the words leave your lips before you even fully realize it, but you don’t regret them.

cat’s eyes widen, her smile softening. she sets down her glass, then takes a step closer, so close that you can feel her warmth radiating. without another word, she reaches for you, pulling you down onto the couch and gently guiding you to sit on her lap. 

you can’t help the small smile that sneaks onto your face as you settle, feeling her hands resting on your hips, grounding you in the moment.

“what are we doing here?” you ask, your voice quiet, curiosity sparking with a mix of nerves and excitement.

cat’s hand brushes a strand of hair away from your face, her thumb tracing lightly against your cheek. “i don’t know... what do you want us to be?” she murmurs, her gaze intense, searching yours for a hint of what you’re feeling.

you swallow, feeling a rush of confidence at her words, the encouragement in her tone. your eyes flick to her lips, and before you can second-guess yourself, you ask, 

“can i kiss you?”

she doesn’t respond with words, just leans forward, her lips meeting yours in a soft, lingering kiss that sends a shiver down your spine. her hand settles on your hip, gentle but possessive, grounding you as you melt into her. 

when you pull back slightly, your heart pounding, you manage a small smile, feeling braver than before.

“will you... will you be my girlfriend?” you whisper, barely able to contain the hope in your voice.

her answering smile is warm and bright, and without a moment’s hesitation, she pulls you back into her embrace, her lips finding yours once more. 

“absolutely.”

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