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meazalykov · 12 days ago

Text

wrong number

bayern munich frauen x lena oberdorf x reader

1/6, 2/6, 3/6, 4/6, 5/6, 6/6

summary: you're the honorary bayern munich teammate.

the excitement fills your veins as you land in lisbon.

you’re finally here, and it’s hard to believe. lena doesn't even know yet—you wanted to surprise her, to be there in person for the match of her life. it’s been a long journey from buying the ticket, keeping it quiet, and making your way to portugal, but every step felt worth it because nothing, absolutely nothing, would have kept you from being here to support lena in the champions league final.

hours later, you’re waiting anxiously in your hotel room when a knock finally comes. you open the door to find lena, looking tired but smiling, and her face lights up as she sees you.

"you made it," she says, stepping forward to hug you tightly. she lets out a deep breath, and you feel some of the tension melt from her shoulders.

"of course i did," you say, hugging her back, brushing a hand over her back.

"how could i miss this? tomorrow’s the match of your life. are you nervous?"

she pulls back slightly, her smile fading as she flops onto the bed beside you.

"yeah… a little," she admits, looking away.

"it’s more than that, though. i keep thinking about the final in 2023… it’s like this shadow hanging over everything. it won’t go away." her voice goes quieter, and you see just how much she’s carrying from that day that you’re unfamiliar with.

you sit beside her, reaching out to take her hand.

"do you want to talk about it? what happened in 2023?"

she nods, her gaze fixed on a spot across the room.

"it was against barcelona, with wolfsburg. we were up 2-0, and then everything just… fell apart. they scored three goals in, like, eight minutes. i felt so helpless. all those months of training, just to lose like that. sometimes it feels like i haven’t shaken it off."

you squeeze her hand gently.

"i can’t imagine how tough that must’ve been. losing on that stage, with everyone watching… it’s okay that it still hurts. a lot of people would feel the same. i also know that you’re stronger now."

she looks over at you, a small smile finally breaking through before giving you a light kiss.

"thanks. i don’t know… i’ve tried to push it out of my head, but tomorrow feels like a chance to finally put it behind me. i want to prove to myself that i’m not that same person who let it slip away." she whispers against you.

you run your thumb across her knuckles, trying to pour all your reassurance into that small touch.

"and you’re not. you’re here, stronger and smarter, and you’ve learned so much. but whatever happens tomorrow, you’re still amazing. i’m just so proud of you."

a soft blush colors her cheeks as she squeezes your hand back, her gaze meeting yours as her forehead rests against yours.

"thank you. it really helps, having you here. more than you know."

after a while, she heads back to her hotel room for a good night's sleep, leaving you with a warm, happy feeling that stays with you until morning.

it’s surreal, thinking back to a year ago when this whole thing started with a wrong number. now you’re here, in lisbon, to watch the woman you love play in one of the biggest games of her life.

the next day, you find yasmeen at the stadium entrance, her face lighting up when she spots you. she flew in from america just to keep you company, and you feel a rush of gratitude as you hug her.

"ready for the match of your life?" she grins, eyes sparkling.

"more ready than i’ve ever been," you laugh, feeling your own excitement build up. you’re both practically vibrating as you take your seats, and when the game kicks off, it’s all you can focus on.

seeing lena on the bench doesn’t dim your excitement—she’ll get her moment, and you know it.

the game starts off tense. city’s vivianne scores in the 20th minute, and the bayern fans around you groan. you try to keep your spirits up, leaning forward and clapping.

"come on, girls!" you shout in german, even though your voice is quickly swallowed by the roar of the crowd.

yasmeen chuckles beside you, giving you a supportive pat.

"you’re so into it already."

you grin.

"it’s impossible not to be. they’re incredible."

just before halftime, bayern’s perseverance pays off. in the 45th minute, klara sets up a perfect cross, and pernille rises up to head it in, tying the score.

you leap out of your seat, clapping wildly as yasmeen cheers beside you.

"yes! let’s go, harder!" you yell, grinning from ear to ear.

at halftime, a fan behind you taps your shoulder and asks for a photo. she’s wearing a lena jersey, and you assume she just wants a picture with "lena’s girlfriend."

you’re hesitant but smile and take the photo with her. when yasmeen teases you, you roll your eyes and laugh it off, though you can’t deny you’re a little flattered.

"look at you, getting famous," yasmeen nudges you.

"you’re practically the team’s mascot at this point."

"shut up," you laugh, feeling your cheeks warm.

"all i am is lena’s slightly anxious but very supportive girlfriend."

the second half starts off rough. city’s bunny shaw scores twice in under nine minutes, and the atmosphere in the bayern section gets tense. you bite your lip, glancing at yasmeen for reassurance as the clock ticks on.

bayern doesn’t let up. lea schüller scores in the 55th minute just one minute after shaw scored city’s third goal, and it feels like a breath of fresh air.

one more goal, and they’ll be even again. you clap, your hands sore but determined, and yell encouragement, hoping somehow the team can hear you all the way on the bench.

then, in the 68th minute, pernille gets her second goal, equalizing. the stadium erupts, and you jump out of your seat, pulling yasmeen into a hug.

this match has you on the edge of your seat, your heart racing with every pass, every tackle.

a commotion catches your attention near the right side of the pitch, and you see sydney in a heated exchange with alex greenwood. sydney is keeping the ball away from greenwood as the ref tries to intervene. you can’t help but chuckle as yasmeen leans over.

"what’s going on with them?"

"just sydney being sydney," you say, grinning.

"kidding. i’m not sure, maybe sydney just wants to give her team a breather.”

minutes later, in the 79th minute, lena stands at the sideline, preparing to sub in. your heart skips a beat as you slip off your light blue button-up longsleeve to reveal your oberdorf jersey underneath. yasmeen catches sight of it and snickers.

"i wonder if she’ll get a yellow card within the first five minutes."

"probably," you mutter with the pride in your voice. you’re just thrilled to see her out there, part of the game she’s worked so hard to return to.

she’s barely on the pitch when, in the 81st minute, she makes a classic side tackle on mary fowler, and you and yasmeen exchange a look.

lena gets a warning, but she’s unfazed, her focus sharp.

the clock’s ticking, and tension fills the air. then, in the 88th minute, lena sets up an assist to sydney, who powers the ball into the net, bringing the score to 3-3.

you jump up, screaming as loud as you can, caught up in the joy of the moment.

at this point, your mind starts to wander, reflecting on how far you’ve come. a year ago, you were just a student in virginia, living a quiet life. now, you’re in lisbon, watching the woman you love play in a champions league final, surrounded by friends and fans. it feels surreal.

yasmeen nudges you, drawing you back to the game.

"imagine if lena scores the winning goal."

"i hope," you murmur, watching her with bated breath as she passes the ball to tuva, who then lightly passes it to ana.

ana crosses up to klara, who leaps up for a perfect header. the ball sails into the net, and the stadium explodes in cheers. the scoreboard lights up,

4-3.

klara runs to the corner, celebrating, and you watch in awe as the team surrounds her. then she turns and sends a heart your way, her hands forming the shape in the air. you send one back, beaming as yasmeen chuckles beside you.

the final whistle blows, and it’s like the whole stadium erupts at once. the scoreboard is locked at 4-3, with bayern’s victory glowing bright, but it’s hard to believe until you see the girls flood the pitch, their faces breaking into elated, disbelieving smiles.

yasmeen nudges you, and you turn to see her beaming.

“they really did it,” she says, a little in awe herself.

“and they really love you, huh?” you laugh, heart swelling as you watch the team embrace, overcome by what they've achieved.

“guess i just got lucky,” you murmur, and you mean it.

after the immediate celebration dies down a bit, the trophy ceremony begins, the crowd cheering louder as each player receives their medal, eyes glistening with the weight of the win. confetti rains down, golden and shimmering in the stadium lights, and you feel a lump in your throat. they’ve worked so hard for this.

suddenly, you hear a voice calling your name. you turn to see sydney and tuva waving, beckoning you over. before you can process it, they’re running up, reaching over the barricade to pull you across it.

“you’re coming with us,” sydney insists, her grip firm, and tuva laughs, nodding in agreement. they drag you toward the heart of the celebration, and you glance back at yasmeen, who waves you off with a smile.

“go have fun!” she calls, and you smile back gratefully.

you barely have a second to catch your breath before you spot lena jogging toward you, her face flushed with happiness, eyes bright under the stadium lights. she wraps you in her arms, lifting you slightly, and you cling to her, laughing as she swings you back and forth.

“we did it,” she breathes, her voice full of amazement.

“you did it,” you correct, pulling back just enough to look at her. her eyes search yours, and you can see that same mixture of pride and disbelief.

“i still can’t believe it,” she whispers, her hands resting on your shoulders.

“it feels… surreal.”

you smile, brushing a strand of confetti from her hair.

“it’s real. and you deserve every bit of it, obi!”

lena smiles, a little teary-eyed, then leans in and presses a soft kiss to your cheek, lingering there as if she wants to soak up the moment.

“thank you for being here,” she says quietly, and you can hear the depth of her gratitude, her voice soft and genuine.

“i wouldn’t have missed this for anything,” you whisper back, feeling your own emotions rise.

nearby, klara is holding the trophy, posing for pictures, her grin as wide as you’ve ever seen. when she spots you, she waves you over, gesturing for you to come closer. you hesitate, feeling a rush of self-consciousness.

you’re not a player, after all—you didn’t sweat and fight for this trophy like they did.

“come on!” klara calls, laughing at your reluctance.

“get in here!”

you make your way over, feeling a bit out of place, and she hands you the trophy, the massive silver and blue prize weighing heavy in your hands.

the moment feels surreal, and you look at klara, a little overwhelmed.

“are you sure?” you ask, voice soft.

she grins.

“absolutely. you’re part of this team, too, you know.”

lena’s hand slips into the side of your waist as she steps closer, nodding with a warm smile.

“she’s right, you know,” lena says, giving your hand a squeeze.

“you’re like our honorary teammate.”

you smile, heart racing, and glance around at the team gathered around you. it’s a strange feeling—this sense of belonging among these women who have worked and sacrificed so much.

they’re looking at you with genuine affection, the bond you’ve built with them over time stronger than you’d ever realized.

“alright,” you say, laughing, feeling a bit more relaxed as they crowd in around you.

“but only because you all insisted.”

they cheer, pulling you into the picture, arms wrapped around one another, laughing and shouting in excitement as the photographer snaps photo after photo. you can feel the joy radiating from each of them, the weight of this accomplishment shared and celebrated together.

when klara makes a heart with her hands, aiming it at you, your chest tightens with warmth.

yasmeen, watching from the stands, raises her thumbs up and laughs, mouthing “so popular!” and you give her a teasing eye-roll, smiling at her playfully.

finally, as the photos wrap up and the team disperses to greet more of their friends and family, lena pulls you aside to meet her parents, holding you close as you both take in the night.

the lights of the stadium are soft now, the crowd gradually fading, and it’s just you two talking to her family, standing side by side in the quiet after the storm of victory.

“i’m so proud of you,” you say to lena after her family leaves the stadium, voice thick with emotion.

“watching you play, seeing you out there after everything you’ve been through… it’s incredible.”

lena’s eyes soften, her fingers tracing the outline of your hand.

“i couldn’t have done it without you,” she murmurs.

“you’ve been here every step, even when i was sidelined and frustrated. you kept me going.”

you smile, your heart swelling with pride and love.

“that’s what teammates are for, right?”

she laughs softly, her gaze tender.

“then it’s settled,” she says, her smile widening.

“you are officially our honorary bayern teammate.”

the words echo in your mind, wrapping around you like a warm embrace, and you know that this night, this moment, will stay with you forever.

masterlist

authors note: I hope you enjoyed this six parts series :) I started it 10/1 and finished this part last night before a halloween party I had to attend lol

#bayern frauen #woso fanfics #woso community #woso x reader #gerwnt #lena oberdorf #lena oberdorf x reader #lea schuller x reader #lea schüller #georgia stanway #Scottish sam kerr #ana maria guzman #pernille harder #magdalena eriksson #glodis viggosdottir #giulia gwinn

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meazalykov · 13 days ago

Text

wrong number

bayern munich frauen x reader

1/6, 2/6, 3/6, 4/6, 5/6, 6/6

"who are you, and why do you have my number?"

you've been preparing for this move for what feels like forever.

the idea of leaving your small hometown in virginia to live in munich is both exciting and terrifying. you’ve spent weeks packing your things, saying goodbyes, and trying to mentally prepare yourself for the massive change that’s about to happen.

sure, you’ve dreamed about studying abroad for a long time. now that it’s here, the reality of it feels overwhelming.

you’re going to be thousands of miles away from home, from everything you’ve ever known. your family is supportive, and your friends have been hyping you up nonstop. yasmeen, your closest friend, has been particularly great about helping you stay grounded, always there to distract you from the “what ifs” when the anxiety gets a little too intense.

today is one of those days.

the two of you had planned a mall trip—something normal and fun before the whirlwind of final packing and travel arrangements takes over. well, yasmeen says that you need a new closet for munich and you don’t disagree.

it feels good to be doing something so ordinary, especially when you know that soon enough, everything in your life is about to be not-so-ordinary.

you’ve been to this mall a hundred times with yasmeen, today feels a little more special though. maybe it’s because you’re hyperaware that you won’t have moments like these once you’re in germany.

will you make friends in germany? what if germany turns out horribly? are the people nice? is there xenophobia you might experience due to yourself being american? these thoughts plagued the back of your mind.

"you’re gonna miss me so much, you know that, right?" yasmeen teases as the two of you walk through the mall’s food court, eyeing the chick-fil-a counter but opting for chipotle instead.

you roll your eyes playfully, nudging her with your elbow with the arm that's carrying your aritzia bag.

"i’ll miss your constant harassment, that’s for sure."

"constant harassment? i’m literally the best thing that ever happened to you!"

"okay, sure," you laugh.

honestly, yasmeen has been a huge part of your life for the past few years. she was the first person you clicked with back in high school, and now it feels weird to think about going through the next few years without her by your side.

you’re trying not to dwell on it, though. you’ll still have facetime, you tell yourself.

after grabbing and eating your rice bowls, you both head toward the stores. it’s one of those days where everything feels easy—there’s no pressure to buy anything. you did though obviously.

at one point, yasmeen holds up a bright red kit with a smirk.

"ouu a bayern munich kittt. you should totally buy it, you will fit in with the munich community."

you tilt your head, laughing.

"what is that? i don’t even watch soccer."

"woah! you better once you hit germany– i heard soccer to them is like how the nfl is to americans."

you shake your head but decide to try it on anyway. yasmeen snaps a photo and tells you that you look like you’re about to cheer for some random german soccer team.

you don’t think much of it and put the jersey back, moving on to the next store.

as the day goes on, you feel a strange mix of contentment and anticipation. it’s nice being here, with your best friend, doing normal things, but there’s a part of you that’s itching to start this next chapter of your life.

it’s like you’re stuck in this weird limbo between your old life and the new one that’s waiting for you on the other side of the world.

eventually, after several hours of shopping, you realize your phone had died. you don’t even remember when it happened.

you’ve been so caught up in the moment with yasmeen that you didn’t notice the battery draining.

"ugh, my phone’s dead," you say, glancing at the blank screen.

yasmeen shrugs.

"mine’s still good. if anything, i can call you an uber."

"nah, i’m good. i’ll just charge it when i get home."

you both grab shoes at birkenstock before say your goodbyes outside the mall. yasmeen gives you an extra tight hug.

"don’t get caught up with your european friends and forgetting about me, okay?"

"never," you promise.

when you get home, you immediately plug your phone into the charger and head straight to the shower.

the hot water feels good against your skin, washing away the stress of the day. you’ve got so much on your mind—packing, travel plans, what your life is going to look like in a few weeks—but right now, standing under the stream of water, you feel calm.

you let your thoughts drift away and focus on the simple rhythm of the water hitting your shoulders.

when you finally get out of the shower, you feel refreshed, like maybe you can tackle all the things on your to-do list without getting overwhelmed.

when you grab your phone and take it off of your charger, you notice something strange.

it’s blowing up with notifications. you squint at the screen, trying to make sense of what’s happening.

there’s a new group chat, and it’s filled with numbers you don’t recognize.

confused, you open the messages. the chat is already deep into a conversation about something, but none of it makes sense to you.

+49 176 1234567: pernille you’re AMAZING wtf was that!!!!?????

+49 171 7654321: arsenals defense during this match had nothing on you or syd holy shit

your brows furrow. arsenal? match? what are they talking about? you know absolutely nothing about this conversation.

hell, you’re not even sure what country arsenal plays for. the confusion only grows as you scroll up to see more of the conversation.

you: hi?

almost immediately, your message is met with a flood of responses.

+49 171 7654321: giulia! finally! where have you been?

+49 178 1233567: we’ve been trying to reach all day, i know we had no training but are you okay?

your heart skips a beat. giulia? who the hell is giulia? you’ve definitely never gone by that name.

you: uh, i think you’ve got the wrong number. i’m not giulia.

for a moment, the chat goes silent. you stare at your phone, wondering if you should just leave the group.

before you can, a new message pops up.

+49 176 1234567: wait, what?

+49 171 7654321: did we add the wrong number again?

+49 171 11122222: sydney, you’re an idiot. you added the wrong number!

there’s a pause before a new number is added to the group.

+49 152 3334444: you guys finally added me.

you assume this is the real giulia. still, no one seems to be kicking you out of the chat, and before you know it, the conversation picks up again.

+49 176 1234567: giulia, you missed our whole debate about the arsenal match.

+49 171 7654321: yeah, and we were saying bayern needs to keep it up for juventus.

you stare at your phone, more confused than ever. arsenal, bayern… these are clearly soccer teams, but why are they talking to you? you don’t even watch soccer. eventually, you decide to chime in.

you: um?? i have no idea what any of you are talking about.

this time, the chat explodes with messages.

+49 171 7654321: what?!

+49 176 1234567: how do you not know bayern munich?

+49 175 7778888: do you watch fusball?

+49 171 1112222: okay, who are you?

+44 177 9900000: ok guys that makes me feel better about this not being a crazy fan.

+49 170 4479173: i agree with georgia

you explain your situation—that you’re a 21-year-old college student from virginia, and you somehow got added to this group chat by mistake.

you tell them about your upcoming move to munich for your study abroad program, hoping to clear up the confusion.

+49 152 3334444: wait… you’re moving to munich? like… munich, germany?

+49 171 7654321: that’s insane omg we all live in munich.

+44 171 9900000: wtffff

+49 176 1234567: this is such a weird coincidence.

you blink at your screen. this is getting stranger by the second. what are the odds that you’d get added to a random group chat full of people who live in the exact city you’re about to move to?

+49 171 1112222: okay, but how do we know you’re not some creepy dude pretending to be a girl?

+49 172 4567389: LMAO LENA

+57 170 9193831: wait…

you roll your eyes at the suspicion but understand why they might be cautious. so, you send them your instagram handle to prove you’re real.

you: ew, i am not some old dude. @ y/n.l/n is my insta, just me out for yourselves.

after a few minutes, messages start pouring in again.

+49 152 3334444: yep, she’s legit.

+49 176 1234567: okay, cool. she seems sweet.

+49 171 9718193: guys laura would love her photography skills

you: who’s laura

+49 171 9900000: someone from the german national team. she plays in frankfurt

+44 177 9900000: this is so cool idky why.. usually i’d be freaked out

a few new followers pop up on your instagram notifications, and you open the app to check. you almost drop your phone when you see that some of the accounts following you are verified.

*sydneylohmann is now following you*

and another

*georgiastanway is now following you*

*tuvahansen is now following you*

and more..

*leaschuller is now following you*

*lenaoberdorf is now following you*

*kathi.ng is now following you*

*pharder10 is now following you*

*guzman013_ is now following you*

*sarahzadrazil25 is now following you*

now it seems like the whole team is catching on..

*buehlklara is now following you*

*magdalenaeriksson26 is now following you*

*magou_doucoure is now following you*

*dahmannlinda is now following you*

it's until you do a quick google search that you realize who they are.

they’re professional soccer players.

you sit there, staring at your phone, completely in shock. you’ve somehow stumbled into a group chat full of actual women’s soccer players.

trying to play it cool, you decide to treat them like normal people.

after all, you don’t even know anything about soccer, so it’s not like you’re going to fan out over them.

you: so, what are your names? i want to save your numbers because all of the unsaved numbers are overwhelming haha

they go around introducing themselves, and you quickly type their names into your phone, saving each number under the name they give you.

+49 152 3334444: i’m giulia

+49 171 7654321: sydney

+44 177 9900000: georgia s

+49 179 7777777: lea

+57 170 9193831: ana g. there’s two ana’s so i’d add the last name letter to tell the difference 💜

it’s surreal, somehow you find yourself chatting with them like they’re any other group of girls you’d meet in a random group chat.

they even start to warm up to you after a few days, especially after you tell them more about your move to munich.

a few of them offer to show you around the city once you get there.

georgia: honestly, munich’s great. you’re going to love it.

sydney: we can help you find all the best spots.

lena: i can definitely ☺️

lea: lena you just moved here from wolfsburg..

lena: lea shushhhh 🙄

pernille: ???

you smile at your phone, feeling a little less nervous about the move. it’s strange, but you’re actually starting to look forward to meeting these girls in person.

sure, they’re professional soccer players, but they’re also just… normal people. and they seem to like you.

as the chat continues, you get the sense that they trust you. maybe it’s because of your instagram or the way you’ve been honest with them from the start, but whatever it is, they don’t seem to mind that you accidentally got added to their group.

in fact, they seem to enjoy having you around.

klara: you seem chill. i know its been a week since you’ve been added but do you promise to keep our secrets safe?

lena: ^

you: i promise. i like you guys!

it’s not every day you accidentally make friends with a group of famous athletes, but somehow, that’s exactly what’s happened.

as strange as it is, you’re kind of excited about it.

part two here

#bayern frauen #gerwnt #lena oberdorf #sydney lohmann #georgia stanway #magdalena eriksson #pernille harder #tuva hansen #lea schüller #woso fanfics #woso community #woso x reader #ana maria guzman #sarah zadrazil

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