#Pernille Harder

[calwoso]

went to the wales v denmark match tonight which was a lot of fun! what wasn’t a lot of fun was watching ceri holland get stretchered off a week before we play chelsea in the fa cup 😭

also cool to see Harder play irl and another one ticked off the bucket list of world class players i’ve seen play live

[pernillemagda]

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[chelseafcwmemes]

YOU ALL!! I WAS WATCHING TV AND THE REXONA HARDER AND ERIKSSON AD CAME UP? I didn’t know they were going to make it a proper commercial 😩

[woso-dreamzzz]

Sniffles

Hardersson x Baby!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: You have the sniffles

A sneeze.

Then tears.

Heart breaking, soul crushing sobs.

Pernille rolls over in bed and cracks open an eye.

You sob, fat wet tears rolling over your cheeks as you sniffle.

"I know," Pernille groans as she sits up in bed and reaches for you as you lay, distraught, in your bassinet," I know. The sneezes aren't very nice."

You sniffle a bit more, your tears having dried out as quickly as they'd arrived as you lay your head limply on Pernille's chest.

She wipes your little nose and you sneeze again.

"I know," She soothes easily, adjusting you so you're more comfortable against her," It's just a little cold but it's the worst, isn't it? You sound so stuffy, princesse."

You whine a little but can't fight the sleepiness that takes hold of you - especially when Pernille gently runs a finger over the bridge of your nose. You're momentarily cross eyed trying to track its path but then your eyelids sag and your mouth parts as you slip back into sleep.

Your breathing is still a little odd and different than usual but Pernille knows it's because of your newfound cold so it isn't much of a worry.

Nothing's really much of a worry that night except your sudden tears at being rudely awoken by your own sneeze.

That and the sound of the door unlocking.

Pernille freezes as she strains her ears to pick up the sound of a key scraping along a lock.

The sound of the front door opening has Pernille quietly placing you back in your crib and even quietly getting to her feet.

She hasn't quite decided whether she's going to barricade the two of you into her room or grab the baseball bat she has hidden in the back of her wardrobe.

It's a toss up between both ideas until there's a crash from the hallway and very loud swearing from a very familiar voice.

Somehow, you manage to stay asleep through all the noise and Pernille throws open the bedroom door and flicks on the light.

Magda's jumping up and down on one foot, clutching the other in her hands as she hops.

"Why is there a toy truck just out in the hallway?!" She demands.

"Did you step on the toy truck?"

"Don't answer my questions with a question!"

"Well, did you?"

"Yes! Yes, obviously, Pernille! I didn't think there would be something waiting to kill me in the dark!"

"Well that's what you get for sneaking your way in here in the dead of night! What are you even doing here?"

"Our baby is sick and you expect me to stay in London?"

"Magda, it's just a cold. She's got the sniffles. That's it."

"She-"

You make your presence known with another sneeze that forces you awake and a disgruntled little huff of annoyance at having your sleep interrupted again.

"She's so sick," Magda bemoans, seemingly forgetting all about her hurt foot as she rushes to your side.

"You're being dramatic," Pernille says with an eye roll," Dramatic and crazy. Magda, you have a match soon."

"Our baby is sick and you want me to worry about a match?!"

You grunt as Magda picks you up, a little hand coming to hit at her chest as your head moves around before your eyes settle on Pernille.

You sniffle a little again before another sneeze rips through your body.

"Oh, princesse," Magda coos as she rocks you," You must feel so awful."

"She's doing alright. She took her medicine so well earlier."

Pernille gently strokes down your nose again and you yawn as your eyes track the path downwards.

"When she's due for some more?"

"In a few hours but I'm hoping she'll sleep through the rest of the night and I can give it to her in the morning."

"Pernille, you look exhausted." Magda gently moves you so you're more firm against her chest," Go to sleep. I'll stay up with her."

"You just got off a plane. You don't hav-"

"I will," Magda insists," We're both the mothers here which means we're both able to pull a night shift. Go to sleep. Rest up. I've got her."

Pernille wants to argue more but she copies you and yawns widely. "Just for a few hours," She says," And then you wake me up."

"Of course," Magda lies as she gently carries you across the hall to your room.

She sits on the rocking chair and you look up at her through tired eyes.

"I'm sorry you feel icky, princesse, but it's okay. Me and Pernille are here to look after you. How about a story? I can tell you a story to help you sleep."

[meazalykov]

crashout

parentalfigure!pernille harder x parentalfigure!magdalena erikkson x f!reader

warnings: swearing. mutual aggression with reader and opponent player. reader is intended to be between 17-20 years old. platonic fic!!!

sprinting across the pitch, the mia san mia in the crowd blasts into your ears, the 24/25 red kit sticks to your skin as sweat beads down your forehead. the red feels like a second skin at this point, a far cry from the blue you wore just over a season ago at chelsea. 

london is a memory now… you’d packed your bags and traded it for munich’s crisp air before pernille made her own move herself. you beat her here by a year, a decision that felt right even if it meant leaving behind the familiarity of everything. 

pernille’s been your anchor through it all. she’s more than a teammate…she’s the closest thing you’ve got to family or a parent figure. growing up, you didn’t have much of that. neglect left its mark, hollowed out spaces where parents should’ve been, and it’s shaped you in ways you don’t always like to admit. 

emotionally, you’re a bit of a mess. you seem quick to flare, slow to settle. however, pernille’s steady. she’s got this quiet strength, a way of looking at you that makes you feel seen without being judged. you call her your parental figure, and she’s never shied away from the role. 

also there’s magda, her partner, who’s just as much a part of your life now. you live next door to them in a cozy munich suburb, and magda’s warmth with her dry humor and gentle nudges has earned her a spot as another motherly presence. 

still, it’s pernille you’re tighter with, the one you turn to when the world feels like it is too much.

every night, you’re at their place and having dinner together is an every evening occurance with pernille stirring something on the stove, magda setting the table, you sprawled on their couch like it’s your own. they’ve built a home around you, filled the gaps your childhood left behind.

today, it’s not about quiet evenings or shared meals. it’s wolfsburg, a match that’s got your pulse hammering from the first whistle. 

hours before the stakes were high and the tackles were brutal. bayern was losing 1-0 and you were already on edge, frustration simmering beneath your skin. sometime right after the second half, lynn from wolfsburg catches you with a late challenge. 

you stumble, boots skidding, and whip around to face her. she mutters something under her breath…the dutch word for stupid slicing through the noise. 

you’re not fluent, but you’ve picked up enough from teammates and travels to know exactly what she said.

you knew she called you stupid from the look on her face. the dam breaks in that same moment. you storm toward her, chest heaving, and unleash a barrage of curses…english, german, a chaotic mix of whatever spills out in the heat of the moment. 

your voice is sharp, venomous, cutting through the damp air as you close the distance between you. lynn’s eyes flash with surprise, then defiance, but before she can snap back, the pitch explodes into chaos. 

teammates and opponents swarm in, shouts overlapping as hands from pernille and glodis grab at your arms, and your shoulders pulling you away. you’re still yelling, words tumbling out in a furious blur, when pernille’s voice cuts through like a blade. 

“stop it, right now!” she says, her grip on your elbow unyielding. pernille’s tone’s not loud, but it’s heavy, serious in a way that makes your stomach twist. you shake your head, muttering under your breath, and wrench yourself free, stalking back to your position. 

the ref’s already got the yellow card out, waving it in your face. you barely glance at it. 

whatever.

the whistle blows later, and luckily you guys won 2-1 but you’re still pissed, pacing the locker room, boots scuffing the floor as you replay the clash in your head. pernille catches your eye across the room, her expression unreadable. 

“we’ll talk at home,” she says simply, and you didn’t argue.��

you know it’s coming.

many hours later, you’re still slouched on their couch, the familiar scent of magda’s cooking lingering in the air even though dinner’s long over. magda’s beside you, her presence a quiet comfort, her knee brushing yours as she scrolls through her phone. 

pernille’s standing, arms crossed, her blonde hair pulled back in a messy bun. she’s not mad, not exactly, but there’s a weight to her gaze that makes you shift uncomfortably. 

“why’d you get so upset out there y/n?” she asks, her voice calm but direct, like she’s peeling back layers to get at the truth.

you shrug, staring at the floor. 

“we were down 1-0. i was already pissed off. she was there, running her mouth. i had to let it out and put her in her place.” your words come out rough, still laced with that lingering heat.

pernille tilts her head, studying you. 

“it’s football,” she says. 

“things get heated. words get thrown around. but you don’t need to go off like that… cussing her out and somehow making it personal.” you scoff, rolling your eyes, the defiance bubbling up again. 

“she did it first and called me stupid.”

“she said it in dutch,” pernille points out, stepping closer. 

“she didn’t think you’d even understand. and since when do you know dutch anyway?” her brow arches, curious, but you dodge the question, jutting your chin out instead. 

“doesn’t matter. she meant it and i felt it.”

magda sets her phone down, her voice softer as she chimes in. 

“still doesn’t mean you have to match her fire with your own. you’re better than that.” you glance at her, her steady brown eyes meeting yours, and something in you softens, just a little. pernille nods, picking up the thread. 

“you’ve got to control it,” she says. 

“not every fight is worth picking. that yellow card is a warning. learn from it and don’t be stupid in the next game, yeah?”

you lean back, arms crossed, the tension still coiled tight in your chest. 

“lynn started it,” you mutter, stubborn. 

pernille sighs, crouching down so she’s at your level, her hands resting on her knees. 

“maybe she did but you took it further and you know that you did not need to. you’re stronger than that…on the pitch, off it. you’ve got us to lean on, you know that.”

the room goes quiet, the weight of her words settling over you. magda reaches over, squeezes your shoulder lightly. 

“we’ve all been there,” she says. 

“losing your head’s easy but keeping it’s the hard part.”

you exhale, long and slow, the fight draining out of you bit by bit. pernille’s right…magda too. 

you know it, even if it’s hard to swallow. 

“fine,” you say finally, voice low. 

“lesson learned. yes including the yellow card and all.”

pernille smiles, small but genuine, and straightens up. 

“good. we’re settled then.” she moves to sit on the armrest of the couch, close enough that you feel her presence like a tether. magda nudges you with her elbow, a silent check-in, and you nod. 

the anger’s still there. it is a faint ember, but it’s fading. 

masterlist

[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”

[emotionalsupportsoccerball]

And you want me to watch men’s sports????

[desperate-gay]

in honor of pernille’s bace in magda’s new boots,

magda & pernille, the living room, & “that’s mine.” & “you’re lucky you look so cozy right now.”

Thief

Pernille Harder x Magda Eriksson x fem!reader

a/n: very small bc i am so tired. small early birthday present for my beloved aurora

“Just admit it!” Magda groans, twisting her key to unlock the front door of the shared house.

“I’m not going to admit to anything because it’s not true!” Pernille exclaims, throwing her arms in the air, causing her training bag to hit her side roughly.

“Just say you stole my favorite hoodie, and this can all be over with.”

“You know what? How about you admit to stealing my favorite blanket.”

The bickering continues as they step through the door, completely oblivious to you cozied up on the couch. You watch as the two make their way into the living room, glaring at one another with narrowed eyes.

Their bags are both discarded in the entryway—something you’ll scold them for later—but right now, you’re too caught up in the brewing standoff between your two lovers.

“Älskling, can you tell her to just tell me the tru—”

Magda’s words die in her mouth the moment she finally looks at you, having not spared you a glance since they arrived home from training. Pernille raises an eyebrow, curious about the sudden pause, until her gaze follows Magda’s and lands on you as well.

You sit there with doe eyes, sipping hot chocolate from a mug clutched in both of your hands.

“That’s mine.” Magda states, pointing to the large hoodie draped over your body.

“And that’s mine.” Pernille adds, gesturing toward the small blanket that’s thrown over your legs.

You hum in agreement, smiling softly at the two girls, completely innocent and oblivious to the conflict that was brewing between them.

The two players exchange looks, their jaws slightly slack, having momentarily forgotten about their own argument. They completely discarded the idea of you stealing their things.

“That’s my favorite blanket!”

“That’s my favorite hoodie!”

“Yes they are.” You reply, still smiling at your girlfriends, who to you seem oddly dramatic at the moment.

“We have been looking for those.” Pernille declares in a high-pitched, accusing tone, flopping her arms to her sides with a dramatic slap.

“They smell like you both.” You murmur, shrugging as you snuggle even deeper into the couch, something that from their perspective seems nearly impossible.

Magda and Pernille exchange another glance, their expressions softening for just a moment before Magda clears her throat and crosses her arms, toughening up her stance once more.

“You’re lucky you look so cozy right now.” Pernille huffs, dramatically stomping to the couch and flopping down onto the soft cushions.

“Yeah, because otherwise, we’d be tackling you to get them back.” The Swede adds, still standing with a slight grump.

“You wouldn’t.” You say, peeking your head out from behind the blanket.

“Try us.” Pernille challenges, quietly crawling closer to you.

Your gaze flips rapidly between them, eyes wide at the sudden shift in tone. Slowly, you begin untangling your legs from the mess of blankets, preparing for a quick getaway.

“Maybe we should test our theory. Nille?” Magda turns to look at the girl beside you, silently waiting for a signal to go.

Right as Pernille tries to lunge at you, you jump up with the blanket in your hands and run as quickly as you can. Magda reaches for you, but with a quick bend of your back, you just barely slip out of her grasp.

The two girls immediately chase after you, watching as you sprint through the house, the blanket flowing behind you like a flag in a parade.

“You’ll never catch me alive!”

“We will get our stuff back!”

“Dead or alive!”

[idontknowwfc]

Just a quick royal visit

[alexbkrieger13]

[gurxreiten]