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meazalykov · 3 months ago

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welcome home

barcelona femeni x alexia putellas x youngadult!reader

summary: you find healing after switching clubs

warnings: swearing, bodyshaming, one mention of bodily fluids, I made up names of imaginary players who don't play for the nwsl club mentioned in this fic!!!, bullying, angst, yes there is a happy ending.

you grew up with your eyes on the stars, and your feet on the ball.

at 15, you felt like the world belonged to you—a place where dreams became your reality. you’d trained hard your whole life to make it to the world stage, and by 16, you were living your dream as one of the youngest members of the 2019 world cup roster for the united states.

the national anthem playing, crowds screaming your name as you made the assist to rose lavelle’s goal—it was everything you’d ever wanted.

all of the happiness and thrill faded away when you joined the kansas city current. when you first stepped into the locker room, you were excited. new teammates, new opportunities—it was everything you’d hoped for.

you wanted to make friends, to be part of a family when it came to being with your first professional club outside of your childhood one.

the moment you walked through those doors, you could feel something off. the eyes on you were sharp, intense, cold.

“what’s up, big foot?” macy had said, the team captain, with a grin that didn't quite reach her eyes.

"don't trip over those feet, yeah?" she had laughed, and a few others joined in, but the laughter felt harsh, mocking.

“yeah, we don’t need a kid coming in thinking she’s hot shit,” added jessica, one of the veteran players, her words dripping with sarcasm.

“try not to embarrass us out there.”

you laughed nervously, trying to brush it off as rookie hazing, but the tone was sharper than you expected. you told yourself that it was normal, that it was just their way of breaking the ice.

you couldn't have been more wrong.

practices started to become a war zone. it wasn’t just intense training; it was like they were out to get you. elbows to your back when the coach wasn’t looking, hair pulling, shoes clipped behind your heels to send you stumbling.

once, in a scrimmage, you remember trying to dribble past jessica. the curly-red headed girl came in late with a slide tackle, her studs connecting straight with your shin. you hit the ground hard, gasping for breath, and she stood over you, smirking.

“whoops,” she said, her voice flat and unapologetic. “you should be quicker, portland has fast forwards and you can’t defend them with those legs.”

the coaches didn’t do anything. you’d get up, limp back into position, and hear them say, “come on y/n, toughen up. you’ve got to be ready for contact against portland on thursday.”

they acted like it was all normal, like you were the problem.

in the locker room, it wasn’t any better. they whispered behind your back, cruel comments about your skills, your looks, even your voice.

once, after a tough practice where arianna had practically shoved you into the goalpost, you were struggling to keep your emotions in check as you unlaced your cleats. you heard them in the back of the room, their voices loud and taunting.

“seriously, what does the national team see in her? she’s not even that great,” jessica said, snickering.

“guess they needed a token teenager to fill the roster,” another voice added, followed by laughter.

“she needs to go back to playing with the u18s, kylie you’d do much better than her in the left-back position!”

you bit your lip so hard it bled, staring down at the floor, pretending you didn’t hear them. you never knew what to say. it felt like you couldn’t breathe.

everything you did felt wrong, like you were walking on eggshells every day.

and then came the night that broke you.

it was after that world cup loss to sweden, a moment that already weighed on you like a thousand bricks.

you returned to kansas hoping to throw yourself into training, to prove you could bounce back. but when you entered the locker room, your world came crashing down. your locker was trashed—like a hurricane had blown through.

your training kit was shredded, your cleats filled with some kind of foul-smelling gunk– obviously period blood due to a used tampon found inside of the locker. and scrawled in black marker across the inside door of your locker were the words,

spoiled, selfish, fat bitch!

you stood there, your heart pounding in your chest, hands shaking so violently you couldn’t steady them.

“what... what the fuck is this?” your voice came out a choked whisper.

kamryn, another girl on the team, walked by, a smug grin on her face.

“looks like someone had a bad month,” she said, fake sympathy dripping from her words.

“i hope you can still play tomorrow, stargirl.”

the nickname fans around the world called you, now being used to belittle you.

you couldn’t hold it in anymore. you yelled at them, your voice cracking with rage and desperation, “the fuck? what did i do to any of you? this is fucking insane and you think i am the problem?”

“you walked in here thinking you were better than us. you got handed everything, y/n. you don’t deserve to be here. you’re a little girl playing a big girl’s game.” jessica walked in, scoffing while smirking at the sight of your locker in the dressing room.

you left that night and didn’t stop crying until your eyes were red and swollen. but even then, the coaches did nothing.

they told you to toughen up, to show “mental strength,” as if their approval could patch over what you were going through. and that’s when you realized you had to get out—before this place destroyed you and any love you had for football.

barcelona was the escape you desperately needed. a chance to rebuild, to breathe.

when you landed in spain, everything felt fragile. it didn’t matter that you were now with one of the best clubs in the world.

the trauma from kansas stuck to you like a shadow. you walked into your new locker room, keeping your head down, afraid to say the wrong thing, terrified of the laughter you thought you’d hear.

but it never came.

instead, alexia, the captain, was the first to welcome you. “y/n! niña!!! so nice to finally meet you,” she beamed, pulling you into a hug that felt warm and real.

“i can’t wait to see you play. you’re from the states? we need to introduce you to keira and lucy– they’ve been wanting to meet you but don’t take their banter seriously.”

every day, they chipped away at your fear. little by little.

when you struggled on penalty kicks one time during training, patri stayed back with you after practice.

“okay you got this!!! by the end of this evening, you will never miss a penalty kick again. trust me! yeah? it’ll be fun.” she speaks with a thick catalan accent.

you were hesitant, scared to mess up, but patri never pushed. she was patient, kind. she’d pass the ball back to you and made you do penalty kicks over and over again until you felt comfortable, until your footwork was smooth, and every small achievement she celebrated like it was a goal in the final.

“see? you’ve got this,” she’d say, and you’d feel the corners of your mouth tug into a smile for the first time in what felt like forever.

it was a few weeks into your time with barcelona, but you still felt like an outsider.

even with the kind gestures, the smiles, the support from the team, you were carrying the weight of kansas like a ghost.

you stayed quiet during team meetings, laughed politely but never loudly, and when the others shared jokes or talked about life outside of soccer, you sat on the edges, half-invisible.

alexia had been watching you. she noticed how you shrunk into yourself, how you seemed to fade into the background during conversations.

during drills, your focus was laser-sharp—too sharp, like you were overthinking every touch, every pass. when you were off the ball, your eyes darted around, like you were searching for threats.

you reminded alexia of esmee when she first arrived last season—new, uncertain. but this was different.

there was fear and sadness in your eyes.

one afternoon after training, alexia pulled you aside. the sun was setting, casting long shadows across the pitch, and most of the team had already started heading back to the locker room.

you felt her hand on your shoulder, and you turned, trying to hide the nervousness in your eyes.

“niña,” she said gently, a small smile on her lips. “can we talk?”

you nodded, biting the inside of your cheek. “sure, alexia. what’s up?”

“it’s about you,” she said, her voice steady but soft. “you’ve been… quiet. more quiet than normal. and i get it, you know, being the new girl and all. esmee and kika were shy when they first came, but…” alexia paused, searching your face.

“this feels different. it feels like you’re afraid of us.”

you could feel your chest tighten, the words getting stuck in your throat. you didn’t want to seem weak, didn’t want to burden anyone.

“i’m not... i mean, it’s just—" you stumbled over your words, trying to find the right thing to say, something that wouldn’t make you sound like a mess. “it’s nothing. really.”

alexia didn’t buy it. she shook her head slightly, taking a step closer to you. “i don’t think it’s nothing, y/n. you barely look anyone in the eye, and when someone even brushes by you during training, you flinch like you’re waiting to get hurt. it’s not normal.”

she kept her voice calm, steady, like she was trying to reassure a frightened animal. “listen... if something happened before you got here, you can talk to me. it’s just me right now. no one else.”

you wanted to brush it off, to laugh and say she was overthinking, but the truth clawed its way up, burning your throat. you clenched your fists, staring down at your cleats, trying to focus on anything but alexia's eyes, which felt like they could see right through you.

“it’s… it’s hard to talk about,” you finally admitted, voice cracking on the last word.

“back in kansas, things were... bad. really bad.”

“what do you mean?” alexia’s voice was a whisper, gentle but urging you to continue. she stepped closer, her hand on your shoulder now, warm and steady.

you bit your lip, feeling the sting of tears threatening to spill.

“my teammates—they hated me. from the minute i got there, they acted like i was the opponent that happened to sneak into their dressing room. i thought maybe it was just... i don't know, maybe i did something wrong. but no matter what i did, they just got worse. they... they bullied me. on the field, off the field... they’d make comments, call me fat, trash my stuff, physically go after me during practice.” you took a shaky breath, your shoulders trembling.

“they hated me for being good– for being called up to the world cup before some of their veterans did. they said i didn’t deserve the call ups at all, that i was useless. every single day felt like... like a war that i was going to lose.”

alexia’s face hardened, and for a second, you thought you saw anger glistening in her eyes.

“and your coaches?” she asked, voice tight with anger. “they did nothing?”

“they... didn’t care,” you said, shaking your head.

“if anything, they made it worse. told me to toughen up, to get used to it, that it was part of being a pro. so i did. i tried to act like it didn’t bother me. but it did. every day, it did.”

there was a heavy silence. alexia didn’t speak for a moment, letting your words hang in the air. and then, she pulled you into a hug—tight, secure, like she was trying to shield you from all the pain you had gone through.

you stiffened for a second, unaccustomed to the softness, the genuine care, but then melted into it, burying your face in her shoulder.

“you don’t have to go through that alone anymore,” she whispered.

“this is your home now, y/n. we’re your family. i promise you—no one will ever treat you like that again. not while i’m here, and i am going to be here for a very long time.”

you felt the tears slide down your face, but they weren’t tears of pain anymore.

they were relief, a feeling you hadn’t let yourself feel for a long time. when she finally let go, alexia cupped your face, making sure you were looking right into her eyes.

“you are so much more than what they made you feel,” she said firmly, her voice laced with emotion. “and if anyone even tries to make you feel like that again, they’ll have to go through me. through all of us. okay?”

you nodded, a small, shaky smile breaking through. “okay.”

“did you go to anyone on your national team about this?” alexia asked, hoping you did.

“i did. alex was the one who encourage me to move clubs. trinity even promised to smash kansas when they go to washington dc to play against spirit.” you laughed, wiping a stray tear from your face.

she laughed back, squeezing your hands. “we’ve got your back, y/n. always.”

and she meant it. over the coming weeks, you felt the shift.

after that talk, alexia made it a point to check in on you.

the small gestures from the team slowly healed the wounds you didn't think would ever close.

when ingrid left you notes in your locker before every match with scribbled encouragements, kika making it a routine to kiss you on the head when you scored a goal past aitana in training, or when mapi pulled you into a bear hug after a tough game reminding you that she is proud of you– you felt at home.

masterlist

#barcelona femeni #woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso community #fc barcelona #alexia putellas #mapi leon #ingrid engen #kika nazareth #trinity rodman

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hydrobunny · 4 months ago

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i knew you'd come back to me

tags: getting back together, vague allusions to angst, timeskip reunion, ambiguous? ending 880 words

a/n: hope u enjoy anon. based on cardigan

it’s been six years since you last saw rin itoshi.

six years since the day he turned his back on you without looking back, leaving behind the remains of your fragile relationship.

but now that you’ve grown - and gotten through life just fine on your own- you’re not sure what that long-gone relationship really had been. if it ever affected him the way it affected you.

and yet, at a small shitty parisian bar several thousand miles aways from home, you see rin itoshi again, and everything changes.

for you could recognize the shape and angles of his face from oceans away, and he knows the same. shocked recognition flares through rin’s eyes (still beautiful, still so intense).

the two of you are young again, and it used to be-

sneaking out of school early so he could practice drills while you did homework on the bleachers-

his hands interlaced with yours, form trembling as the both of you agreed that an era in the itoshi household had ended forever-

your hand on his wrist, his feet dragging in the wet sand while he half heartedly argued against entering the cold waters-

him opening your christmas gift, a luxury cologne that had taken you two months to save up for-

you and him in your living room, horror movie blaring on the screen while he pretended to be annoyed at your screaming-

him packing a duffel bag with his best worn football cleats and a mysterious invitation while you mulled over the best way to say a temporary goodbye-

you cheering his name in a stadium crowded with his brother’s legacy, unaware as something in his heart broke and was reforged anew-

the two of you were sixteen, and rin itoshi was telling you to not wait for him again.

with an ice cold voice, he had left the dregs of your relationship behind.

but six years is a long time to hold a grudge- so you don’t. you were both young, with nothing but the cruelty and arrogance that came with being young.

you aren't sixteen years old anymore.

so you don’t blame rin itoshi for breaking your heart. instead, you meet his eyes head-on and smile, hoping he can taste your forgiveness.

you think he might. for rin almost flinches away, his eyes still flashing over you like he can’t believe you’re really there.

“hey, rin.” and you let him back in.

“y/n,” he says slowly. “you’re here. in paris.”

the barkeeper slides you a drink wordlessly. you tilt your head. a small part of you marvels inwardly at how tall he is. “so are you. small world, isn't it?”

rin blinks, gaze flickering once to the small glass, and you’ve known the confusion in his voice since years ago. “i live here.”

you don’t know that one. “oh,” you manage, too awkwardly. the bass of the music almost drowns out your words. “paris? i wouldn't have taken you for the type.”

his confusion turns into straight disbelief, face furrowing. “what? no, not like-” he clears his throat. “for the football team. pxg? i’m the starting striker.”

“that does seem more fitting,” you pick up your glass. “so you did it? blue lock worked out?”

rin doesn’t respond immediately, searching your face carefully. in the tense pause, you throw back at least half of your cup. “you really don’t know?”

“well, it wasn't like i wanted to subscribe to that show,” his face stiffens at your words. “if im being honest, the only thing i even know about japanese football now is that we think isagi’s the great hope of us all.”

rin’s face shifts immediately to a display of impressive annoyance. “don't believe that crap.”

you bite down on your laughter. “i don't feel that strongly about it.”

your phone buzzes in your pocket. his eyes trace your movements as you pull it out, skimming the notification.

“i should go.”

“already?” he blurts out, grimacing immediately after.

you raise an eyebrow. “i've been here. you just haven't seen me.”

“shitty place to spend your time.”

your heart twangs with the familiarity of his casual brashness. “sure. i’m glad to know you’re doing well, rin. see you in another six years?”

he doesn't respond. with a sigh, you leave .

there’s no point in looking back. you push past sweaty bodies, an emotion you can't quite place roaring in your ears.

it was over. it had been over. you had already long accepted it to be over, so why did it still burn to turn away?

a hand wraps around your wrist, firm.

you whirl around-

rin’s eyes meet yours with a breath-stopping intensity, desperately searching for something. “i’m sorry.”

the music is too loud. you blink rapidly. “what?”

he leans in closer to you, and you realize he still wears the same cologne. “you were too good for me. and i’m sorry for what i did to you.”

you step backward, heart thudding with the rhythm of a song years paused. “i don't- rin?”

his hand is still on your wrist. “it’s always been you, y/n, and i don't know why it took so long to realize. but i was a fucking idiot.”

you swallow.

rin itoshi meets your gaze. “one more try.”

the lights flash a dozen different colors, and you hear yourself answer.

#hydrobunny #blue lock #blue lock x reader #itoshi rin x reader #rin x reader #rin itoshi x reader #rin itoshi #i can't tell if this is really good or really bad but #i should not be posting this on monday night but lol!!

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woso-lover234 · 7 months ago

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Barca femini x (teen) reader- banged up

inspired by Ona

you were running down the line with Renard behind you coming at you with pace. You looked to your left to see Pina who had just been subbed on and passed the ball to her. You didn’t notice Renard was now on your left side and as the ball left your foot you got shoved forward by Renard and as she kept running her cleats scraped against your face from the bottom of your cheek to next to your eyebrow. To make things worse the left side of your face slammed against the ground right onto your new cut which burned. You instantly tried to stand up to get out of the way of play but your head was spinning and your sense of direction was off so you didn’t even know which way was up. Instead you decided to lay back down and try get the attention of alexia or Ingrid. You waved your hand in the way you thought was up and then felt hands on your back.

“Hey Joey” the voice said and you relaxed instantly in your hold. It was Ellie. “What’s wrong?” She said trying to help you sit up which you tried to contribute to but she ended up doing most of the work and winced when she saw the left side of your face covered in your blood and your eye almost swelled shut with bruising already forming. “Oh darl” she said cupping your face as she called out for someone from the Barcelona team to come and help you aswell the medics.

“Ellie shhhh” you said rubbing your head and rubbing the blood from them onto your forehead aswell. Once you brought your hands down alexia, pina, Ona and Ingrid had now joined you just as you noticed the blood and looked up to Ellie

“Ellie what happened?” You say as tears started filling your eyes and Ellie’s face softened knowing you most likely had concussion

“It’s ok you just took a nasty fall and got a cut on your cheek, your gonna be ok I promise” she said as you nodded and alexia pulled your body back slightly to rest against her as she sat down behind you.

The Barcelona medics arrived, stood you up with the help of ale and Ingrid, wiped up most of the blood and realised that you were showing signs of concussion and needed to be subbed off.

“Noo ale I don’t want to go off! I just came on!” You whined trying to grab onto her to stay on the pitch even though she was walking with you off the pitch

“You didn’t bebita you came on ages ago” she tried to explain as she held your smaller hand in hers and rubbed over your knuckles knowing it comforted you. You sighed and leaned into her side just as you got to the edge of the field were you were transferred to mapis side as she immediately began doing the same thing alexia just had been as you slowly started leaning more and more of your weight into her.

“Hey bebita your gonna need to stay awake until they get you all fixed okay” mapi said gently as she pushed your flyaways out of your face and kissed your forehead as you merely nodded and opened your eyes a little bit more.

The medics bandaged your face and gave you ice for your eye and you got diagnosed with stage 1 concussion and got cleared to go back to the bench to watch the rest of the game as long as you wore your ear defenders and kept your ice pack on your eye to which you agreed and mapi said she would watch you. By the time you got out there they were announcing the extra time as you went to the bench and sat near Vicky who laughed at you as you tried to shove her which caused her to laugh harder as you pouted before Frido pulled you into her lap and held your ice to your eye for you so you could focus on the game.

“And back on the bench we have 15 year old Australian Y/n Y/l/n who looks like she has a shiner coming through and matching cuts to her fellow team mate Ona batlle” the commentator announced as the bench laughed and Ona winked at you from the field.

When alexia scored her goal Frido was up and carried you with her like you were a koala and she was your tree. Alexia took you off her and span you around after she had whipped her shirt off as you groaned at her sweaty body.

“Yuck ale your all sweaty” you complained as she laughed and gave you a big kiss on the head before pina came and you gave her a big hug for her assist as she kissed your forehead too. Then Frido came and took you back to the bench where you basically fell asleep in her lap for the rest of the match.

“And it looks like Barcelonas young talent has fallen asleep” the women commentator said “I wouldn’t blame her she took a hard knock to the head and she’s got a black eye forming and that massive cut” the man said as the camera locks in on you and frido on the bench as she absentmindedly runs her hand through your hair.

When the whistle blows you are jostled out of your sleep and immediately know what’s happened as everyone is screaming and cheering. Your first thought is to find Ellie and make sure she is ok as she is your national team mate and one of your favourite people. When she spots you she pulls you into a big hug which you accept as she gently lifts your headphones to whisper in your ear

“I’m glad you’re ok, you had me nervous for a while” she said pulling back slightly to cup your cheeks and inspect your face. She winces, kisses your forehead and then tells you to go celebrate which is when you run into Ona.

“Oni! Look! we’re matching!” You say as you walk into her arms after repeatedly pointing to your bandaged cheek

“I know” she laughs but doesn’t lift your ear defenders due to close proximity and you them blocking out louder noises (which Ellie didn’t know)

“Did your sleep get some of your energy and awareness back?” She asked to which you nodded slightly before you change the topic and ask her to get a photo of you guys together with your medals, the trophy and your matching injuries to which she accepts. She kisses your hairline before walking with you to find the others.

What you found unfair was Ona got to take off her bandage for the presentation while Alexia made you keep the big white plaster on your face which stick out like a sore thumb on your tanned skin even when you whined to her about wanting to match with Ona fully

“Everyone knows you have the same knocked up face” she laughed and ruffled your hair which you grumbled about as well

“But ale I want us to be fully matching not half matching” you said as ale shook her head

“Yours is bigger than Onita’s besides she’s a big girl” she said that part jokingly “and she can decide whether or whether not she wants it on” you were about to jump in and say you too where a big girl when ale continued “and no you aren’t and im the captain and I decide whether or whether not you keep it on” she said wrapping her arm around your shoulder as you leaned into her but looked up at her with an innocent smile

“Since your captain you can just make her out one back on though ale” you said practically begging as she sighed. Ona didn’t end up putting on a new bandaid which you weren’t very happy about.

You weren’t allowed to be around the kids because they would be too loud and crazy for you right now (ale, irene and martas words) so you were stuck with the adults for celebrations, the bus and plane ride and alexia even stayed with you at Mapi and Ingrid’s for a couple days just to make sure you were fully fine. The photo you and Ona took got posted to the Barcelona page with the caption; ‘put their bodies on the line and for a good cause ❤️💙’ to which you reposted it to your instagram with the captain ‘I’ve gotta do everything you do @onabatlle 😉😜’ to which Ona reposted and said ‘of course my little shadow ❤️’

And it went viral as the fans found it hilarious that you and Ona were not taking the injuries that seriously.

A/n Sorry this took so long and wasn’t even any of the requests y’all sent

#woso imagine #matildas #woso #woso fanfics #fc barcelona #ellie carpenter #ingrid engen #alexia putellas #ona batlle #claudia pina #mapi leon #fridolina rolfö #vicky lopez

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