#second player france

[sinnerista]

Nobody asked but here it is anyway

[doux-amer]

Let out a shriek and clapped when Lamine equalized and got his first ever goal to become the youngest player ever to score at the Euros, so my mom woke up startled while dozing off next to me. WHAT a goal to make your first goal ever at the Euros and to do that as a 16-year-old! What a game to do it in! What a moment! And to do it outside the box for the first time since Euro 2000. I don't remember the last time I got goose bumps. He's a really, really special kid.<3 And Dani Olmo! He's been on fire all tournament and I'm thrilled for him. Imagine if he wins the Golden Boot!

[hoshiros]

—✯ TRY IT, BITE IT, LICK IT, SPIT IT

cw. 18+ mdni. all chars 20+, pro-player!rin, afab!reader, oral (f!receiving), praise, petnames, established relationship, inspired by that one leaked panel of rin because what the hell

When ITOSHI RIN wins a game, your face is always the first one he wants to see.

Oftentimes, he'll search for you in the crowd with your embarrassingly noisy neon poster boards cheering him on. Other times, you'll already be waiting for him at the gates with your arms opened wide for him to run into.

For the last four weeks, though, he’s had to suffer the agony of your absence.

Rin called you incessantly while in France, reminding you of how many days separated him from being in your arms. "Wait for me. I'll be home soon," he said. "And be good," he'd add on, almost cheekily.

His promises were always sincere and lethally calculated. He wanted you to need him so badly that you'd fall apart on his tongue in minutes. Then he'd do it again, and again, and again, until he was satisfied.

When he finally came home, you barely had time to breathe before his lips were crashing into yours. You wanted to ask him if his flight was alright, if he had dinner yet, but then he licked himself into your mouth and the entire thought vanished.

And now you're being devoured by a monster.

Rin's been between your legs for so long that you're dizzy, head airy and light as he fucks into you with his tongue.

"Stay still," he warns sharply, words muffled as he stuffs his face closer into your sopping cunt. His warning is followed with his hands circling around your thighs, palms flat against the skin and leaving seas of heat along it.

You whine pathetically when he presses your hips down into the mattress, forcing you to be still for him.

"Can't—" you choke, spine curling from the bed so far that your head tilts backward. "Slow down, Rin!"

"Slow down?" He murmurs roughly. Rin furrows his brows, like he genuinely can't comprehend your request. "Actin' like it's your first time," he mocks, finishing his sentence by wrapping his lips around your clit.

You squeal, hand shooting down to shove his head back. He almost laughs when your weak attempt only pushes the bangs out of his eyes, giving him an even better view of you.

Rin pulls back enough to click his tongue, amused by your squirming but equally frustrated at your protests. He draws away from you. You feel cold as he does, the space he occupied suddenly devoid of his warmth.

"M'sorry princess," he coos, trying to coax you into relaxing. Peppering light kisses up your thigh until he gets to the spot resting on his shoulder, Rin can feel every shiver as you recover. "Too rough?"

You take a moment to catch your breath, waves of overstimulation crashing in your stomach. Finally, your gaze slowly drifts down to him, roaming over his face.

Your pussy clenches around nothing at the sight.

Sweat gleams across his forehead, stray strands of hair stuck to the skin as he also finds his breath. The entire bottom half of his face is so wet. You did that. You did.

"Hmm?" Rin hums, trying to get an answer. He looks so fucking cocky. So hungry. His tongue runs across his lips as if he can't stand not tasting you for even a second longer.

You shake your head, fingers still in his hair tugging lightly until he groans. "I can take it," you sniffle, guiding him back down closer to your heat.

"I know, baby. You're so good."

Rin dives back in as if he's starving for you, lathering your cunt in rough, long licks until you're shuddering. His hands travel down to the base of your thighs once again, pulling your body closer so that he can finish his meal.

You cry out softly, aching hole desperately trying to squeeze his tongue. He was the one who was so good to you. You dare to gaze at him again, just to admire his beautiful face.

Your breath hitches.

Rin has that same look on his face as he does on a football field—like a winner chasing a goal he knows he'll always get.

[theworldgate]

I have to explain what is going on in the UK, because it is absurd.

So, this is Gary Lineker:

He's known for a fair few things over here. He was a very good (association) footballer, playing for England in the 1986 and 1990 World Cups, winning the Golden Boot in 1986, and managing to never get a single yellow card in his playing career. He played for Leicester City, Everton, Barcelona, and Tottenham, before finishing his career in Japan. But if you aren't in your mid 30s, you probably know actually know him him for a couple of other things. The first is the role of spokesman for another Leicester icon, Walkers Crisps (which are sort of equivalent to Lays, but hit different), as pictured above. Despite being a notably clean player, he used to play a cheeky serial crisp thief. I don't think he's done that for well over a decade, but his ads were on the telly a lot when I was a kid and it's a bit like learning that the hamburglar was an incredibly clean (American) football player or something.

The second thing Gary is widely known for is having presented Match of the Day, the big football program on the BBC, the sort-of state broadcaster, since 1999. He is, incidentally, very well paid for this (though with a consensus that he could get even more if he went to one of the non-free-to-view broadcasters because he is very good at the job). He also has a twitter account. And political opinions. So, the UK government has got itself dead set upon doing heinous stuff that will totally somehow work to prevent people who want to come to the UK making the perilous crossing of the Channel (between England and France). By heinous, I mean "openly advertise that they won't attempt to protect victims of modern slavery" stuff. It's very obviously using a legal hammer to victimise a marginalised group of people in order to win votes. And, uh, I should clarify that by "legal" I mean "using the passage of laws" - the policy is, in addition to all the other ways it's awful, probably incompatible with the Human Rights Act and the UK's international law obligations. Gary, top lad that he is, objected to this. On Tuesday 7th March, he made a quote Tweet of a video of the Home Secretary, Suella Braverman, bigging up the policy, he wrote "Good heavens, this is beyond awful.". This got a bunch of backlash from extremely right-wingers, and then he made the tweet that really got him in trouble (with right-wingers): "There is no huge influx. We take far fewer refugees than other major European countries. This is just an immeasurably cruel policy directed at the most vulnerable people in language that is not dissimilar to that used by Germany in the 30s, and I’m out of order?".

Now, I am not actually subjecting myself to watching a video of Suella Braverman bigging up a cruel policy to say whether the specific comparison of the language to 1930s Germany is accurate. But needless to say, Ms Braverman was amongst the many figures on the right of UK politics objecting to Gary's rhetoric. And here's the part where a fact about the BBC comes in: it is nominally neutral and impartial (and so, of course, is routinely accused of bias from all sides but particularly the right-wing), and has something of a code for its contributors to this effect. Now, that code has previously been applied to Gary Lineker, over a comment about whether governing Conservative Party would hand back donations from figures linked to the Russian regime. But it generally hasn't been applied too strongly to people like Gary, whose roles have nothing to do with politics (such as presenting a "here's what happened on the footie today" show), on the basis that, well, their roles have nothing to do with politics. However, when directly asked about whether the BBC should punish Gary Lineker for his tweets, government figures basically went "well, that's a them problem". But a couple of days passed, and it seemed like Gary's approach of "standing his ground because he did nothing wrong" was working and everything would die down. He was set to get 'a talking to' but not much more than that. The Conservative right, after all their fire and fury earlier, had gotten bored and moved onto something else. And then, on Friday 10th March, the BBC announced that he would be suspended from hosting Match of the Day this weekend. But it could still go ahead, because there are, like, other hosts! Except, well, funnily enough, when you take a beloved figure off air, for making a fairly anodyne tweet, no one wants to be the scab who actually takes up the role of replacing him. Gary's two co-hosts, Alan Shearer and Ian Wright, said that they would not appear without him. People who (co-)host Match of the Day on other days followed suit. The net result is that Match of the Day is currently set to air without hosts, BBC commentary, or global feed commentary. And the solidarity shown to Gary Lineker, over what is very flagrantly actual cancel culture and an attack on freedom of speech (the logic implied is that institutional impartiality requires that no one say anything too critical of the government ever), has continued to grow. The BBC has pretty much been unable to run pretty much any live sports content today, and has resorted to raiding the BBC Sounds archive to fill the sports radio channel. And, as of 17:30 on Saturday 11th March, the situation shows no signs of improvement, though some are calling for the Chairman Richard Sharp, who is separately facing corruption allegations, to resign (yes I linked to the BBC itself there, there is nothing, nothing, the BBC loves more than going into great detail about how much the BBC sucks).

[jorjin]

Definitely think people are being a tad too harsh with Mbappé for saying something that was definitely dumb but not as bad as everyone's making it seem. We have heard much worse comments from other players and y'all stayed quiet about it, shut up a little on this one would ya

[woso-dreamzzz]

Youth Team IV

Hardersson x Teen!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: Your first youth game

The Denmark youth team calls you up on a random day.

Or, rather, they call your mothers who are more than happy to accept.

It's your first youth team call up and you can't help the nerves that settle in your stomach.

At first, everything goes smoothly. You meet the coach and the staff and you get settled in your room.

That's when training starts.

There's two other keepers to play with. They're both on the upper ends of the age range of the team. You're on the lower side.

They're worldly and smart and seem leaps and bounds ahead of you. They catch shots you could only dream of and seem like good friends, already having a solid relationship to pick up every time the international break comes around.

You're the outsider here, the girl that has to fly over from Sweden every time just to play in an international team. The girl that no one else here knows because she plays her football in Sweden. The girl that's so much younger than everyone else and took the spot of one of their friends.

The coaching staff have seen something in you that no one else can see, even you. You're young and untried and everyone keeps looking at you like they expect you to be some great talent.

As of yet, you haven't proven it which is why it's a surprise that you're the starting keeper for the match against France.

It's a surprise for everyone else too, if the way the other two keepers complain is anything to go by.

France is a tough opponent, even at the youth level and while this isn't a tournament, it still sets the bar for the future.

Your coach is trying out new positions and new rotations and new team chemistry. He takes no complaints.

You stay in the starting line-up no matter how many people complain.

You stay in the starting line-up no matter how many of the older girls give you a dirty look during training.

You understand why. You're the outsider here. You're the one taking the spot from their friends. You're the one that's appeared randomly and is taking away chances from others.

The match, as predicted, is incredibly difficult.

France have a good front line.

(One day, all of these girls will be in the senior team against you).

They press high. They press hard. They press fast.

Your defence falls apart before your very eyes.

One time, after a rough training session, Magda told you something in the car.

The goalkeeper is meant to be the very last option to stop a goal. If a defence is good then they should be able to stop a strike before it happens, before it manages to trouble the keeper. The sign of a good defence is when the goalkeeper doesn't need to save a single shot.

But the keeper is also in charge of the defence on the pitch.

The coach can tell the players anything before they're on the pitch but, in the heat of the moment, the keeper needs to remind the defence of their jobs.

Your first half is difficult with your defence making silly mistakes and playing like they've never been in the back line in their life.

France dominated possession and the amount of shots on target with the amount of space your defence has gifted them.

You come off the pitch pissed, unwilling to make eye contact with your mothers as you pass them in the stands.

You don't even want to look in Pernille's direction.

You're playing for her country right now. You don't want to disappoint her. You don't want her to look at you when you inevitably concede to France and lose Denmark the match.

"Hey," One of the older keepers says to you, standing in front of your cubby with her arms crossed over your chest.

You're sat down, leaning back against the wall as you stare at the gloves in your hand. Your energy drink sits next to you, half empty with the small chocolate bar Pernille always tells you to eat to give you a boost of energy in the second half.

Your throat bobs as you look up at this girl.

"Hey," You say back, completely defeated.

She looks at you, eyes roving over your body before she lets out a long suffering sigh.

"If the defenders are playing shit," She says," Then you need to tell them. I suggest yelling, get it through their thick heads that if they can't stop the ball from getting to you then the goal conceded is their fault."

"You want me to yell?"

"Look," She says," I get you're all quiet and stuff but out on the pitch you're in charge of them. If they're not up to your standards then you better fucking tell them."

"I-"

"Plus it helps get some of your frustration out."

Her words circle in your head even as you walk out for the second half.

France dominates again and it's not long before they're bearing down on goal.

You defence is wide open, allowing way too much space and you have to go to ground to save the shot.

Rage boils under your skin as you stand up, marching over to your defence as they mill around waiting for you to release the ball.

"Tighten up!" You snap," You're giving them too much space!"

"Whoa, wait a minute-"

"No! Just close ranks when they come near! Cut them off then and there and I won't have to make the save because if you keep playing like that sooner or later, they're going to sneak one past me!"

You don't give them time to argue back, rolling the ball out to your midfield.

The game ends nil-nil but you don't have to make any more saves and you don't bother sparing your defence a look as you walk off the pitch, making your way right over to the stands, hoisting yourself up and over.

"I'm sorry," You say, head bowed as you stand in front of your mothers," We didn't score."

"I don't think scoring is exactly up to you," Pernille says, reaching out to cup your cheek and pull your head up," You're responsible for not conceding and you did that. A clean sheet on debut. That's a win in my book."

"But not a proper win," You say.

"Let's focus on what you can control," Magda says," You control the goal and the defence. You didn't let a ball past you. You told your defence they needed to tighten up. You did well."

"Really?"

Pernille laughs. "You're too hard on yourself. Now, go down, get showered, get changed. We're going out with your grandparents tonight and we need to tell them about your amazing debut."

[norrisluv]

EURO FINAL - LANDO NORRIS

summary: you go to the euro final with your boyfriend

warnings: fluff and smut

Lando and I were arriving at the Olympiastadion in Berlin for the final of Euro 2024. Lando was obviously cheering for England, the country where he was born and raised, while I was cheering for Spain, my second home.

“Our seats are 12 and 13” I nod and start looking for our seats. I walk down a few rows and finally find the two unoccupied seats.

“Lan, over here. Got it” Lando walks over to me and we sit down in our seats. We watch the players train until they finally go inside to prepare for the game.

“If England win, you sleep on the sofa.” Lando looks at me with confusion and arched eyebrows.

“Why? I'm not the one playing for England to win” I shake my shoulders and look to the front where some people are starting to dance

“But you're going to sleep on the sofa anyway” He lets out a low laugh and looks ahead like me, watching the show until the players from both teams start to enter the field. We started clapping and then stood up for the anthems. For the next 45 minutes, we watched the game with a few shouts and sighs until half-time, when it was still 0:0.

“I'm going to the bar to get something to drink, do you want anything?” I hear Lando's voice as I watch the players leave for the changing rooms.

“Hm, yes. A pineapple juice please. Do you want me to go with you?” He shakes his head negatively and leaves a quick peck on my lips.

“No need beautiful, I'll be right back with your drink” Lando goes to the bar while I stay on my cell phone. Two girls come up to me and ask for some photos and I smile and accept. Lando arrives and sits down next to me, sipping his drink.

“Am I really going to have to sleep on the sofa if Spain lose?” A smile grew on my face as I sipped my juice

“I don't know, I'll think about it. Pierre had to sleep on the sofa when France eliminated Portugal.” Lando's eyes widen and he looks at me. He stays silent for a few seconds and then looks at me again.

“Really?” I nod and take another sip of my drink, even though I don't know if it's true or not, I decide to say it.

“ Really.” The second half begins and in the first few minutes, Spain scores a goal, causing me to get up from my chair and Lando to let out a sigh.

“AH, Spain is winning” He looks at me with his face closed and his jaw clenched.

“Yes, I saw it” I sit back in my chair and smile until England score a goal a few minutes later. I roll my eyes as Lando celebrates the goal. He sits back in the chair next to me and puts his hand on my leg as I cross my arms over my chest

“It's the same now” He smiles and I continue with my face closed and my arms against my chest.

“I don't like you” He lets out a laugh and squeezes my leg.

“I love you too” The game continues and Spain score a goal in the last minutes of the game. When the referee blows the final whistle, I jump out of my chair, shouting happily. Lando, even though his team has lost, looks at me with a smile on his face.

“What?” I ask as he continues to smile at me

“I don't care if my country lost, I like to see you happy.” I let out a laugh and kiss Lando on the cheek.

“You're going to sleep on the sofa anyway,” he rolls his eyes and my smile grows. After the celebrations and me making Lando stay in the stadium to watch the players lift the cup, we get in the car to go to the hotel.

When we get to our hotel room, I quickly take off the jacket Lando lent me and put it on the back of the chair.

“Do you want to take a shower?” he asks as he approaches me, making me feel his warm breath on my ear and his hands on my hips, which makes me smile. I turn to Lando and wrap my arms around his neck

“Not now. I want to do something first” Lando smiles and gently removes my Spain T-shirt. He throws the fabric on the floor and pushes me lightly onto the bed, then gets on top of me and carefully runs his hands over my body.

“What do you want to do, baby?” Lando smirks and unzips my pants, while I take my hands in his, pulling his boxers and jeans down to his knees.

“I want you,” I whisper before joining my mouth to his, then starting to run my hands down his shirt, trying to pull it up. Lando lets out a laugh and stands up a little, starting to undo the buttons. He finally throws his shirt on the floor and brings our mouths together again

He runs one of his hands down my leg and ends up on my thigh. I move my hips, wanting more friction, but Lando holds my waist, not letting me move. He reaches his fingers down to the fabric of my panties and pulls them down my legs, tossing them in the same place as his shirt and my t-shirt.

“As beautiful as ever babygirl” Lando whispers against my skin and seconds later I let out a loud moan, feeling his mouth between my legs. His tongue dances across my pussy and I try to move my waist, but he wraps his hands around my stomach, holding me down.

“Lan...baby, please,” I beg Lando as I feel his tongue slip in and out of me. He lets out a few grunts against my core and I let more moans escape my mouth. He puts his thumb on my clitoris playing with me as he pulls his mouth away from me a little.

“Come on baby, I want you to cum,” he whispers before putting his mouth on me again, feeling a tremor run through my legs and my orgasm hit me.

“That's it baby” He stands up and completely removes his pants and boxers. Lando lies back on top of me and runs the tip of his cock over my lips and clitoris.

“Lan, please...I need you,” I sigh and close my eyes as he enters me in one thrust.

“Fuck baby... I won't last long” He puts his head between my neck and starts thrusting rapidly into me. I grab his back and dig my nails into his skin. I scream out Lando's name, wrapping my legs around his waist.

Lando starts leaving kisses on my neck and running his hand down my body, squeezing whatever he can. My fingers curl in his curls and I let out one last cry before of reaching my orgasm. Lando let his thrusts get stronger and faster as he let out several grunts

“Baby... I'm going to cum inside you” I bite my lips through the overstimulation and nod. I feel the ropes of Lando's cum inside me, making me let out a few more moans.

After a few seconds, he pulls out of me and gets up to go to the bathroom. He comes back with a towel and wipes me down my thighs and between my legs. A few minutes later, he lies down next to me and takes a deep breath, smiling.

“Spain may have won the Euro, but I won today too.” I let out a laugh and turn over on my stomach, resting my head on his chest.

“You always win when you're with me”

A/N: Let me know if you like it! Thank you <3

[nats--sw]

Gold chain (pt1) | Leah Williamson

Leah Williamson x tennis player!reader For the past year, Leah had been a big fan of yours, and now her mother wasn't missing any opportunity to tease her during Roland Garros. warnings: none, just fluff and slow burn note: this one is long (maybe?), sorry about that. The next part has more Leah and reader interactions, I promise. This was written with an oc, i changed everything at the last minute so sorry if there are any mistakes there,, pt2 my masterlist

Leah Williamson, England captain, European champion, Miss Arsenal.

That was how she was publicly recognised within the world of football, a sport that had always been her passion, but lately, or rather, since she had been invited to Wimbledon in 2023, she had begun to share some of that passion with tennis. 

She explained to everyone that she fell in love with tennis during a deep conversation with the legendary Billie Jean King. While there was truth to that, tennis didn't captivate her so much because of the sport itself, but rather because of a certain player, who since that Wimbledon semifinal, Leah had watched almost all of her matches. 

“Believe me, that girl Y/N is great, don't let this match fool you” Billie had muttered to her after witnessing your unfortunate loss in the last set.

And who was Leah to doubt the words of the greatest tennis player in history?

Since then, Leah has managed to watch as many of your matches as possible. And yes, you were undeniably beautiful, but what truly captivated Leah was the elegance with which you played. Each swing of your racket held a mesmerizing grace that left Leah spellbound every time.

And now, with a break after the final game of the European qualifiers, it was the opportunity for a holiday.

"Hey, Leah!" Georgia barged into her room on the last day of camp, now that they were back in England. "Got any plans for this week?"

"Yeah," Leah replied, without giving any details, more focused on packing her suitcase than engaging in conversation with her friend.

"Where? With who?" Georgia asked, raising her eyebrows suggestively. She knew Leah tended to keep her romantic interactions with girls in private, not just from the public but even from her own friends.

"With my mom, you idiot," Leah replied, rolling her eyes. "We're headed to France."

"Now? What's so interesting about France?" she asked, with a look of disgust on her face. Sure, there were plenty of interesting things to do in France, but Georgia didn't want to hear anything related to that country for a couple of days.

"Roland Garros? Does that ring a bell for you?" Leah retorted, her tone laced with sarcasm.

"Huh? Since when do you go to another country for a tennis match?"

"My mom likes it" Leah lied smoothly, without any hint of shame. If only Georgia knew that Leah had sweetened the deal for her mother with promises of fine wines and breathtaking views post-match.

"Well, that's too bad... but text me if your plans change,"

Leah nodded, though it was in vain because she wouldn't change going to France to see her favorite tennis player.

"Who are we rooting for?" Amanda said, taking a sip of her drink, not really interested in what was happening on the clay.

"Uh, we're impartial," Leah said, settling back in her seat.

Four games had already been played, each player winning their respective games. 

"I have a feeling we're rooting for the girl in the white visor," her mother said. 

Leah looked at her, pulling her sunglasses down a little. "What?"

"Well, you make a face every time the other player makes a point."

Leah said nothing to that comment, her attention had returned to you, now one point away from managing to break your opponent's serve. It was an important match, a semifinal, so every point would be valuable to put you in the final of the tournament.

Still not saying anything back to her mother, Leah held her breath for a few seconds. The ball was going back and forth across the court, but you, with impressive precision, hit the ball with a spin that made it graze the top of the net. For a moment, it seemed like it might fall short, but the ball dropped just over, catching your opponent off guard.

"Wonderful" muttered Leah, crossing her arms with a smile, ready to enjoy the rest of the match. 

There were times when tennis was mentally overwhelming. You felt this every time you played, and it had cost you a lot of matches in the past. A whole court filled with hundreds of people, all watching you, many anxiously waiting for you to make a mistake that could cost you the match. It was more than overwhelming.

That's why, at times, you had to pause your mind and take a deep breath, despite how difficult that was for you.

You only needed one more game to win the set and secure a place in the Roland Garros final. No pressure, of course.

The advantage was that you were serving in this game, but ironically, this often made you even more nervous. The pressure of delivering a strong serve was immense. 

The crowd was overwhelming, so many eyes watching you, so many unfamiliar faces focused on you, watching every move, your family and team sitting behind you. In this position you couldn’t look at them to calm down. 

You needed to focus your eyes on something, to steady your nerves. As you walked towards your position, after drying your face with the towel, you looked in a diagonal direction, right towards the area where you were supposed to put the ball. 

As you raised your gaze slightly, something caught your eye. In the stands, amid a sea of blonde and brown heads, was a woman with striking red hair. The woman stood out, not only because of her hair, but also because she was the only person not looking at you, instead, her attention was elsewhere.

You stole a glance at the red-haired woman as you inhaled deeply, preparing for your serve. With a fluid motion, you raised her arm, tossed the ball into the air and delivered a powerful strike.

Ace!

The ball zipped across the court with velocity, catching your opponent off guard. Convinced it would fly out, your opponent made no attempt to chase after it.

A satisfied smile tugged at your lips.

Once more, your gaze flickered toward the red-haired woman in the stands. Drawing another deep breath, you focused intensely as you prepared to serve again. With a determined flick of your wrist, you sent the ball hurtling across the court, this time, your aim wasn’t for an ace, but rather to set up a play that would complicate the things for your opponent.

Within minutes the score stood at 40-15. Just one more point. 

You didn't want to take any unnecessary risks, but you craved to close the match with a decisive point, one point to make it clear why you were here.  

So, you adjusted your visor, brushed your fingers over the gold chain hanging from your neck and looked up, for the first time looking directly at the woman, not even getting a good look at her, because the woman was quite far away, but the woman's disinterest helped you to clear your head and focus your mind, ignoring the bunch of other faces watching you. 

Just one more point.

You lifted the ball, the familiar weight of your racket in your hand, a quiet groan escaping your lips before you swung. Then, the sound of the impact echoed through the entire court and as the ball bounced on the clay.

Ace!

Leah was up from her seat at the same time as you fell backwards onto the clay. 

"That was incredible," Leah exclaimed, joining the chorus of applause. 

"Incredible?" Amanda asked without understanding that much. However, what truly caught her off guard was the sight of her daughter like that, grinning from ear to ear. It was common to see her like that when it came to football matches, but not usually during tennis.

"Are you kidding? It was phenomenal! If you hadn't been glued to your phone, you’d have felt the same as the rest of us!" Leah retorted.

"So, did we win?" Amanda inquired.

"Well, you have won a few more days in France," Leah replied, attempting to temper her excitement. "The final is in two days."

"Do we have tickets?”

"Of course, I purchased them in advance. I already knew Y/N would make it to the finals."

Amanda regarded her daughter suspiciously. "You're not into gambling, are you?"

"Of course not," Leah replied with a grin. "But if I were to bet on her I'd do pretty well”

As they made their way toward the exit, following the crowd, Amanda broke the silence. "Do you know that player?"

"No… not personally" Leah replied "But I watched her play at Wimbledon last year."

"Did she win?"

"No" Leah shook her head, a hint of disappointment in her expression. "She lost"

"So, she's not that good?" 

"Actually, she's quite impressive," Leah defended you. "She went up against the number two player in the world."

"What rank is she?" Amanda inquired.

"Four," Leah answered.

"Then she's not the best," Amanda said confidently.

"Mom!" Leah nudged her playfully while Amanda held back her laughter. "You couldn't even hit the ball."

"Neither could you, I remember your attempts at tennis when you were little," Amanda chuckled. "But what I don't get is why you're defending her so much"

"Because she's great, she’s talented! Look over there!" Leah pointed behind her, where a large screen displayed the game's results alongside your photo.

Amanda's eyes immediately gravitated toward the image, ignoring the points table. "And she's quite pretty," she remarked, studying your face for the first time.

"And she's talented," Leah emphasized, feeling a blush creeping up her ears. Thankfully, her hair concealed it from her mother's curious gaze.

"Whatever you say, sweetheart," Amanda replied with a smile.

It was a tough match, quite a tough match, but that's what you would expect in a Roland Garros final. 

The first set ended 6-4 in favor of Iga Swiatek.

You had faced her numerous times throughout your professional career, but had never managed to defeat her in an official match. Despite your old friendship with Iga, there was an undeniable intensity when you two met on the court, and you were determined to shine this time.

As the first set concluded, you sank into your chair, you had to use the break to ease the tension in your legs. Uncapping your water bottle, your fingers instinctively found the gold chain around your neck, adorned with your initials. It may have seemed superstitious, but wearing it had always brought you luck on the court.

Suddenly, your coach's voice pierced the distance, signaling for you to relax and loosen up your play. You brushed off the advice, as if you hadn't already realized that. Ignoring your coach's guidance was risky, but you already had your own voice in your mind against you. 

Taking a long sip of water, you refocused your gaze forward. Then, something caught your attention.

The same woman from the previous match was in the stands again. You hadn't noticed her before, too engrossed in your opponent. Again, that was the key to your game, you needed to block out distractions and focus on yourself and the ball. Just like you had done during the semifinal match, you needed to tune out everything else.

"How many points before your girl loses?" Amanda said, glancing sideways at Leah, who was leaning forward, her elbows on her knees and a faint blush on her cheeks. According to Leah it was from the sun hitting her face, but Amanda knew her daughter well enough.

"Don't pester me, now's not the time," Leah replied, sitting up straight in her seat and adjusting her sunglasses.

"I'm not pestering you, but you claimed that girl was fantastic. Yet, from what I've seen today, the other player seems better to me."

"Well, she's number one after all"

"So, you admit she's the best."

Leah rolled her eyes. "Y/N just needs to take a breath. After this break she'll bounce back, you'll see. She'll shut your mouth"

"If you say so."

And so it happened. You had won the second set 4-6, breaking Iga's serve at the crucial moment. The victory was almost surreal, even Leah found it hard to believe.

"Stop biting your nails," her mother said, giving Leah's leg a slap as she saw her nervous habit.

"She's going to win," Leah said without looking at her mother, her gaze fixed on you, as you refreshed yourself by wetting your hair before the final set.

"Leah, you've been saying that since yesterday," Amanda remarked, a mixture of amusement and exasperation in her tone.

"I’m excited," Leah defended.

Amanda shook her head, a smile tugging at her lips. "If she wins, will you approach her?"

"Are you being serious?" she said, shaking her head "What would I even say?" Leah replied, a hint of uncertainty in her voice.

"You've been crushing over her for days. I've never seen you like this with someone you don't even know," Amanda teased.

"It's not a crush. I just admire her athletic ability and determination, that's all," Leah insisted.

"Well, then you two have something in common. I don’t see why you don’t talk to her" 

"Because... I just don't," Leah stammered, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

"What a coward," Amanda teased.

The set stood at 4-5 in your favor, but now it was Iga's turn to serve, and she was already in position. You shifted your weight from side to side, preparing for the shot, a smile gracing your lips as you caught sight of the red-haired woman just above Iga’s head. The woman had become your anchor, helping you refocus on your game. 

It was almost amusing, thinking that no one else existed in the crowd, just you and the woman. You could tell the woman wasn’t at all interested in what was going on in the clay. You often caught the woman glancing at her phone during the set. Yet, you found solace in playing as if you were solely performing for the woman.

However, you didn’t forget the game at hand, swiftly responding to each shot with your racket, rallying back and forth several times before you had a moment of brilliance that allowed you to execute a breathtaking drop shot in the opposite direction of Iga's sprint.

It was the highlight of the tournament, perhaps even of your career, your best point. Yet, when you glanced up and noticed the red-haired woman looking away, you couldn't help but chuckle.

With the score now at 40-AD, you needed just one more point to clinch your first grand slam title. As Iga's shot came straight towards your body, you managed to get your racket in position to return the ball. The exchange of the ball was intense, this time you had to sprint to reach a ball you never thought you could. You struck it with the edge of your racket, hoping for the best as the ball sailed toward the line.

As you watched the ball clear the net, you felt the light weight of your gold chain around your neck and remembered that luck was on your side this time.

Everything happened in slow motion as Iga dropped her racket to the ground, and moments later, you found yourself on your knees on the clay court, the crowd erupting into cheers around you.

You didn't know how, but now you were already in the stands, being hugged by your family and your team, with your coach by your side, trying to shake some of the clay off your clothes. 

"I need you to do me a favor" you said to him before the tournament staff took you away for the trophy presentation.

As Leah and her mother descended the stairs toward the exit, Leah couldn't contain her excitement. "I told you Y/N would win," she exclaimed, her hand firmly grasping her mother's arm. The trophy presentation had concluded, and the crowd was beginning to disperse. 

"It was luck," Amanda teased her daughter, though she couldn't deny her surprise at your remarkable turnaround.

"We should have placed a bet. We would have won"

"At least I won't have to endure your grumpy face during dinner," Amanda said with a playful smirk.

Leah rolled her eyes as they walked through the crowd.

"Excuse me!" A man's voice behind them interrupted their conversation. Leah's eyes widened as she recognized him. "This might sound strange… but Y/N wants to see you," the man explained to Amanda, who didn't understand the situation at all, her daughter didn’t either.

Leah felt a tug on the arm her mother was holding on.

"Uh-"

"It's Y/N's coach," Leah clarified to her mother.

"And she wants to see me?" Amanda asked.

The man nodded awkwardly. "I wish I could offer more explanation, but Y/N is sometimes unpredictable."

After a moment of contemplation, Amanda flashed a mischievous smile and nodded, gripping her daughter's arm even tighter. "Sure, take us to her."

Leah's heart raced. How was it possible that she was going to meet her crush the athlete she admired thanks to her mother? 

Your coach, after a few minutes of walking in silence, led them through a door into a room where you were lying on a couch, eyes closed.

"Hey, Y/N. Your guests are here," your coach announced, giving your shoulder a squeeze.

You quickly opened your eyes and stood up, ignoring the fact that you had just played a two-hour match less than half an hour ago. 

You were no longer wearing your visor and your shoes, but you were still in your white uniform with lilac accents. Leah couldn't help but notice that your socks were now stained with clay.

"Y/N L/N" you introduced yourself, extending your hand toward Amanda. Your attention seemed focused on Amanda, oblivious to Leah standing behind her. "I'm introducing myself because I have a slight feeling you don't know me," you said with a smile.

"Amanda," she said, shaking your hand. "Don't worry, I know who you are. A little voice hasn't stopped repeating your name since we arrived in France."

Leah blushed and glanced away.

"Oh," you released Amanda's hand and turned to the blonde, whom you hadn't noticed during either match. "Shouldn't I introduce myself then?" you asked, extending your hand toward Leah.

"No need," Leah said, feeling her mother's not-so-subtle nudge as you extended your hand. "My name is Leah, and I'm a big fan of yours."

"Your number one fan," Amanda chimed in with a smile.

"Mom!" Leah protested, feeling her cheeks flush with embarrassment.

You released Leah's hand and turned to Amanda.

"She brought me all the way from England just to see you," Amanda explained, noticing the way you were looking at her daughter. 

"England?" you asked, curious about the mention of England.

"Yes, we're from England," Leah confirmed.

"And my daughter is the captain of—"

"Mom, no!" Leah interjected, her cheeks turning pink as she attempted to silence her mother's impending revelation.

You couldn't help but laugh at Leah's embarrassment, finding the exchange amusing.

"Why are we here?" Leah asked before her mother could continue.

"Oh, right," you replied, regaining your composure. "I wanted to thank you," you said, turning to Amanda and clasping your hands behind your back.

"Me?" "Her?" Amanda and Leah exclaimed simultaneously, surprised by your words.

"Yes," You said softly, your gaze shifting to Leah, a smile returning to your face. "Since the semifinal match, I noticed your mother in the stands. Although, it's hard not to see her," you added, gesturing towards Amanda's red hair. "She was the only person in the whole court who wasn't looking at me. Thanks to her, I was able to concentrate and win. It may sound silly but—"

"Oh, don't worry honey," Amanda interjected. "They usually tell me that I bring good luck in big games," she said, nodding towards Leah with her thumb.

"You're an athlete? Sorry, what was your name again? I don't have a good memory with names," you said, this time blushing slightly.

"Honey, Leah is the captain of the England team," Amanda clarified, speaking on behalf of her daughter.

"Oh... Football? Volleyball?" You inquired.

"Yes, football," Leah replied, feeling a flush of embarrassment. She had never felt so embarrassed in her life, not even as a child.

You glanced Leah up and down once more. You had never imagined a football player could dress so stylishly. You found yourself so engrossed in observing Leah's attire that you only snapped back to reality when your coach cleared his throat.

"Well, I just wanted to make sure to thank you for your help, even if you didn't realize it," you said, pulling an autographed tennis ball out of your pocket. "I'm not sure how valuable this is to you, but perhaps your daughter will appreciate it," you added with a laugh, glancing sideways at Leah. "Well, I must be off now, interviews and all that," you explained, walking away to grab your bag. "Hope to see you two at Wimbledon," you said, winking at Amanda before leaving.

The next day, Leah found herself at the airport, keeping an eye on their suitcases while her mother went to grab something to eat. Suddenly, a notification on her phone caught her off guard.

Y/N_kz started following you

[spidybaby]

Not The Romantic Type | Part Three

Part One | Part Two

"Aren't you nervous?" Fer asks, hands busy helping Pedri fix his smoking. "I'm about to colpase from the excitement."

"I feel like I'm going to cry myself to sleep, but in a bad way, I can't believe that I'm actually on the top three to get this."

If you ask him, only in his dreams, he was able to be on the top three of the most likely to get the ballon d'or.

He improved so much over the years that he worked more on perfecting his game to be able to classifie into the best players.

He remembered the Golden Boy award, Messi won one before winning his ballon d'or. Now he's following into his idol footsteps.

"Mom wants a picture of you on the suit." Fer says as he snaps a picture of him. "Venga, let's go get some food, we still have that meeting with the constructor."

Pedri thank the designer, changing into his normal clothes back to meet the new contractor.

Fer and him are partnering in a restaurant, he trusted his brother as a chef for his whole career. It was obvious he was trusting him with something this big.

"We need an interior designer." The constructor tells them. "I know you have a vision of how you want this to look like. However, I feel that with a little help and more inspiration we can make this amazing."

"Vale, if you think it's what we need, then let's do it!" Pedri says excitedly. "Fer will be the one meeting up with this person since I'll be at the field."

"No problem, I think my girl will be the one. Not that I'm talking bad about the guy, but she's just a star when it comes to modern luxury style."

"Perfecto!" Fer smiles, "Let's meet up with her, I'm so excited."

Pedri was excited about everything, the ceremony in France, the new project, the possible winning of the Champions League.

He was focused on the field and nothing else. That's why Fernando decided to be the caregiver or the project, so Pedri would be all into his element.

The dressing room was euphoric, the players happy about winning the semifinals, they're playing the final at home.

"Visca al Barca" Gavi yells.

"Visca al Barca" they all second.

"And let's all celebrate to our next Ballon d'or, the magician Pedri." Ter Stegen shakes him. "Vamos Pedri!"

They throw all the water they can at him, making him smile and laugh at how much support he has from his friends. His second family.

After the celebration Ferran invited Pedri to a little party he planned. "No lo sé, tiburón. I'm kinda tired and I have to meet with the designer to measure the tux"

"A little party never killed nobody." Ferran insisted, but he denied. He needs rest and peace.

"Vale, pero me lo debes." He hugs him tight. "See you around, pepi."

He drives home, passing in front of the place where the restaurant will take place. He can't help but feel pride, this feels like an extension of their parents' hard work.

Fer was laying on the couch, checking some ideas the ID (interior designer) sent them.

"Hola, tonto." Pedri pulls lightly his brothers hair. "Are those the ideas this girl sent you?"

"Si, look at this, I love this idea she has." Fer pass him the iPad. He sees the ideas, loving all of it. "She's amazing, first thing and I'm already in with everything."

"Yes, this is cool." He checks everything, loving every idea. "When are you meeting her?"

"I think tomorrow." Fer gets up, walking to the kitchen and pulling out food. "But don't worry, I'll update you on everything."

✨️✨️✨️

"So, as you can see here." The constructor pointed to the ceiling. "We thought about lighting that can be dimmed as the sun light goes down."

"My brother and I loved that idea, specially because we have that at home recently installed and I think it will go so well."

"Perfect, our designer will come any minute now, she told me traffic was hectic and she was just a block away but stuck."

"It's okay, I get it. It took me an hour and a half to get here today, so I can't blame her." He laughs, interrupted by his ring tone." Excuse me for a second."

The constructor kept looking at his structure with your design. The sound of heels makes him turn, you were walking fast while holding your iPad and a few more things.

"I'm so sorry, Marc." You apologize, leaving your things on the desk. "I think today is not my day. Is the client mad?"

"Not at all, Y/n." He pats your back. "He's an amazing dude, super relaxed. You will hit it off real quick."

You smile relief. You didn't want to lose this client, specifically because Marc told you they wanted to expand if the first restaurant goes well, meaning you will expand with them.

"Let's meet him them." You nervously giggle. "What's his name again?"

"Fernando, he's a chef."

Before you can even connect the dots, Fer walks into the room, saying goodbye to the person on the line.

"Fernado, so nice you're bac. This is our interior designer, Y/n."

You smile at the sight of him. Haven't seen him since the breakup. He has more facial hair, and he's stronger and definitely more mature looking.

"We know each other." You smile, still surprised at his presence. "We go way back actually."

Fer is as astonishing as you are, opening his arms to greet you into a hug. "It's been a long time no see." He laughs, hugging you tight. "Gosh, I can't believe you're our designer."

"I can't believe you're my clients." You laugh. "Let's leave the talk for later, I want to explain this to you, and then we can use the time."

He nods, letting you explain every part of your ideas. He can't deny that even if it wasn't you, he loves the ideas and can't think of any way to make it better.

You ask him about colors, measurements, textures, and different stuffs you will need to prepare yourself for your work.

"Perfect! We can't say that this meeting was a success." Marc happily says. "I'll keep working while you two chat a little, excuse me." He wayves goodbye while Fer and you say goodbye.

"Entonces," Fer says, picking your side like he used to. "You're a well-known designer." You nod, smiling.

"And you're a well-known chef, Mister González." You laugh. "It's so nice to see you. How have you been?"

"It's been good, I'm older but I think wiser." He hands you your iPad. Helping you with some things. "What about you?"

"I mean, you can tell how I am. I got my dream job and I feel like nothing can go better than this." You shrug.

Fer wants to ask. He needs to ask if you have someone or not, but he doesn't want to intrude into your private life.

"So, how's the family?"

"They're good, nothing to report." You nod. "What about your family? How are Rosy and Fernando? How is the Tasca going?"

You can't help but miss them, specially Rosy, she acted like a mother to you, always worrying about you, taking care of you when you were sick.

"Mom and dad are so good. They are healthy." He smiles at the thought of them. "The Tasca is doing good. This is a little extension of it, but bigger."

"I'm so happy for you, Fer." You hug him, happy about him, making his dream of having his own restaurant come true. "How is Pedri?"

Fer is speechless, he didn't think you will ask about him, not after the way you two ended things.

"Bueno, no le va mal." He laughs. "He's on top three to win the ballon d'or, Barcelona is on the UCL finals, la Liga finals. He's at the top."

You smile, you're happy he is getting all the awards he deserves. He's always been amazing at his job.

"I'm happy for him." You nod. "Even tho I haven't really been aware of the team. I've been busy lately."

"Maybe you can catch up, he's also in this with me." Fer smiles as big as he can "and he's single." He elbow you.

You laugh at this, blushing a little at the confession. You did hear some rumors about him and some girls, deep down wanting for it to be just that, a rumor.

"Don't know why that's important." You giggle, looking down. "We been over for a long time now."

"Well, if you want him back, he's available to be picked."

"Fer." You laugh. "He wouldn't pick me, specially with all the girls he's probably getting." You look away while saying that.

He always got girls, and nobody could deny that. In your mind, they were girls who were hotter than you, prettier than you, more experienced than you.

That was something that made you feel insecure, not that he was engaging with them in any way, he always ignored them or just straight up blocked them.

But you had that little insecure voice from time to time that told you that he had better options and that you needed to step up.

"Don't say that." He says in a serious tone. "You were the best thing Pedri had."

Fer wasn't lying. After you left, Pedri went down a very dark path. He was going out, drinking, bringing girls home.

Everything to make him forget about you. Girls who looked nothing like you, who acted nothing like you.

Girls who went after his money and his fame. They were doing everything they could to show they were with The Pedri from Barcelona.

You on the other side, always made sure to be cautious about not getting recognized. You never wanted the attention that came with being his girlfriend.

You were with him since he was that Canarian guy at Las Palmas, that skinny boy who made it big.

You were there before the fame, before the fans, before the name. But you were his past.

"If you say so." You exhale. "I will send you a virtual look of everything with all of the things you picked."

The change of subject makes Fer think you may not be as interested in his brother as he thought you would be.

Maybe you moved out and didn't want to let it out. Maybe you changed your likes and now you're not up for a footballer.

"Thank you, I'll see you here next time I pass by?"

"You will, I'll be here a lot more."

With a hug goodbye you both walk out to your cars. You wave him as you enter your car, getting a honk from him.

Fer can't even believe the picture he's seeing. He thought Pedri was being honest with him when he said that no more one night stands with random girls whom the club invite to their parties.

He can't help but feel embarrassed about talking to you all this past days about how much Pedri would love to have you back.

But now his little brother is on all the magazines and gossip news of Barcelona and Spain as a taken man by this random influencer who obviously posted more about being at the party.

One part of him can't blame Pedri, he was in a committed relationship since he was sixteen, he obviously went out and went crazy after the break up.

But six years later was a little too much for him to keep his crazy behavior. He had a chance of winning the girl of his dreams back.

Fer can't help but think about you. If you see this news and pictures, you will definitely think all he's been saying is a joke and that he's playing with your feelings.

And how right he was, you can't help but feel anger. He's been spending all this time changing topics to Pedri.

"Pedri was busy but says hello."

"Oh Pedri can't wait to be here to see you."

"When you're back together, I'll be the happiest brother in law you will ever have."

Was he teasing you?

You don't even want to go to work today. You want to call in sick and spend all day in bed thinking about how stupid you are for believing Fernando's words.

But you won't. The breakup didn't stop you back then, and it won't now.

You will walk with your head up, ready to work in your nice outfit. You won't mind, you have so much to lose, he already lost you.

He lost you.

You didn't lose him.

"Buenos días!" You say, giving Marc his favorite coffee order as usual. "Any news I should now?"

"Well, the Calcutta Gold Marble is taking longer than expected but after that nothing to worry about."

You nod, leaving your things at your little station. "As always with Calcutta."

"By the way, Fernando was looking for you. He's outside talking with David." You nod, thanking him and walking to where Fer is.

You know he's about to mention the picture. He can't help it but be so obvious about things. But you will change the subject as much as you can't.

"Hey, boss." You smile "heard you wanted to talk to me."

"Hey, how are you?" He plays with his necklace.

"I'm good. I had a very nice sleep." You smile. "I want to tell you, the Calcutta Gold Marble we picked for the bar area is taking more time. Don't worry about it. That's normal with that material, but just a heads up."

He half smiled, not sure how to approach you. He wants to say sorry. He wants to kick his brother.

"I'm sorry." He spat, can't even think straight due to the blame he feels. "You probably saw the picture and -."

You sigh, not wanting to have this conversation this early. "Fer, let's focus on what we need to focus."

"I just feel like I need to apologize."

"You don't. Let's move to what's important here. Your restaurant."

He understood quickly, not bringing the topic again. That made you relax. Before this project you were fine not thinking about Pedri. You are fine now.

You focus on making this project happen. You wanted Fer to have the best reaction when he sees his project finish.

✨️✨️✨️

"So, are you nervous about tomorrow's match?" The press guy asks him. "It's the finals for the UCL, and then you have to go to France for the Ballon D'or. You have a pretty crazy schedule."

"Bueno, I think I've always had a crazy schedule." He laughs, making the interviewers laugh too. "But I'm not nervous, I trust my team, I have a big trust in all the work we've been doing. We trust out Mister, so to me it's about focusing on staying healthy, making goals and winning."

"Walk us through the process you have for your next trip to France."

"Joder, it's not that much. If I'm honest, I have the tux, have the shoes, have my family, don't think I need anything else."

"Pedri, we got many requests to ask you if you don't walk with a ballon that night, will we see you walking with a special someone?"

He half smile at that question, knowing he fucked up by getting too close to María at the party.

"I don't have a girlfriend. If that's what you're asking." He shrugs. "I'm single. And probably the only lady I will be going to hug during the ceremony and after is my mom. Thank you."

He walks away, mad at himself for allowing this to happen again. He knows this girls just want the hype attached to his name. Specially now, with all the winnings of the club.

"Dude, you okay?" Gavi asks, noticing his frown. "What did they say?"

"They asked if I'm walking out that fucking auditorium with someone, es una putada, I will celebrate the week I don't get linked with some random girl."

Gavi lift his eyebrow. "Si, but the rumors don't just appear." he scuffs and turn to his locker.

"What do you mean?"

"Pedri, you used to be out and about with a different girl every other week. You flew this girl to Manchester. When you came back, you had this other girl in a new hotel. You're doing this to yourself."

He can't even argue because it's true. He did all those things. He flew all these girls. He fucked up his reputation.

"Me cago en la puta." He threw the towel at the inside of his locker. "I just wish I can have some fucking privacy."

"Then don't involve yourself with girls who only care to expose that they're with you." He hits him with his jersey. "Dude, you can go out and find a nice girl who will want a relationship and not just sex and a picture."

He nods, stresses about the topic already. Gavi is right. So is Ferran when he advise him not to mess with every girl that flaunt at him.

And when Fer tries to get some sense into him finding someone to settle to. Someone who will be happy to welcome him after a long day, someone who wants to grow a family with him.

He doesn't want that. Not without you.

He agreed to move out that day when you asked him to be happy, to find someone who would celebrate all his victories.

But he had that. He had you.

He lost you.

The game was about to finish, the extra time about to finish.

The Bayern had a corner. So they have to step up and prevent them from scoring. Just two minutes more and that's it.

"Vale, a ver." He yells, catching up the attention of the players near him. "Marc, just this cover up and the Champion is ours, please catch it." He makes them laugh. "Fermin, cover Davies. Gavi, cover Saliba. I'll cover their number 10."

They all nod, positioning themselves. They were nervous, this was their chance. This was their final chance.

When Marc let the ball go, Gavi was at the right place at the right time. He hit the ball with his feet, making it go out of the goalkeeper area.

Raphinha runs away with it. Getting the ball as far as possible from their area. Just when he's trying to make a assist to Pau, the referee blows the whistle.

Pedri runs to Gavi and Fermin. Hugging them while screaming. The public was as static as they are, cheering for them.

They won. They got the Champions League.

He look over at where his family is, they're screaming and jumping. Everybody is, the whole stadium is.

Running to his parents open arms. He can't help the tears of happiness as he hugs his family.

Feeeeeeeeerrrrrrrrr added to his story

You are happy for him, you can't lie to yourself like you do to other people.

You feel proud, he got everything he ever wanted, he got la liga, he got the Champions and he's probably will get the Ballon.

And he did what you asked him to do. He got himself someone to celebrate all that with. Someone who will make him happy.

The sour taste in your mouth haven't left since you saw that picture of him with that girl at the party.

He left you behind, like you asked him to.

You tried to focus on the work you were doing, turning the tv off to pay more attention.

You can't, your mind goes back to the way things used to be. He made mistakes, and you accepted all those mistakes because you loved him.

While he is at his party, with his family and his new girl. You are trying to forget about the memories of him.

You fix all the things Fer asked you to fix in the design, making the things he wanted as similar as possible as he explained.

You texted him, asking him if he was able to come see you to approve everything so you order the material.

Fer answers you while he opens the door of his home. He was still ashamed about the picture situation. He could sense the change in your attitude before and after that picture.

"I need your help, I don't think I can walk upstairs by myself." Pedri whine, he drank more than he should, making him dizzy.

Fer helps him, carrying him while walking upstairs. "Pedri. You need to help me just a bit."

He feels bad, he doesn't want to celebrate alone. All his teammates with their partners and kids and he's alone.

Yes, he has his parents, his brother, this family and friends. But he needs a hug at night when he gets insecure. He needs a shoulder to cry.

He craves intimacy, not sexual intimacy. He wants to feel secure with someone to the point of trusting all his worries and deepest secrets.

He wants someone to know his family, to sit at his parents' table and have a relationship with them.

"I'm sad," he confess. "Am I allowed to be sad?"

Fer can't even understand where this is coming from. He never saw signs of Pedri being sad or never heard anybody telling him to suck it up.

"Pepi, you can be sad." He reassured him. "Why are you sad? Tell me"

Pedri just shakes his head, not even sure how to approach the topic. "I miss my life back when I was twenty."

Fer understood, his brother carries a lot of responsibility on his shoulders, especially now with the whole <he needs to bring the ballon d'or home just like Messi>

"How can I help you, pepi?"

"If you have a magic wand that can bring me back to when I was happy and didn't have to fuck a girl every night to feel something, please use it."

He frowns, not sure how to reassure his brother. He knew Pedri felt alone. He can tell. He told him off about his sex life.

Not shaming him, but making him understand that the pattern he was following was not healthy at all.

"I can help you by not leaving you alone." He hugs him, pating his back lightly to calm him down. "I'm here, always will."

He helps Pedri take his clothes off and get into bed, he wants to check him in case he feels down again.

Once Pedri is passed out, he tries to plan something, how can he help him?

He picks his phone to text his mom that they're home. He sees the last text he sent is to you. The light bulb on his head turns.

He can help him, he's not with anyone, not that girl at the party and is done with the playtime every other week.

If he asks him to go to the meeting and approve the things you need, you can meet and reconnect.

He just needs his brother to be ready tomorrow to meet you. He knows he still thinks about you, and you might still do the same.

He texts you, asking you to meet at four p.m., by that time his brother will be up and fresh to see you.

Feeeeeeeeerrrrrrrrrr added to his close friends

"I don't even want to be near a drink in my life." Pedri makes a disgusted face, he needs a whole gallon of water.

"Finish the drink so we can go."

The drink looks bad, very bad. Even tho it was just a tea with no sugar. "Maybe I'll just go brush my teeth."

Fer feels excited. He wants his plan to go well. He's anxious but happy. He knows it's about time you two make a move and solve what needs to be solved.

"Vamos, big head." Pedri smack the back of Fer head. "You drive, I can't do nothing yet."

The trip was not as long as usual. The streets were lonely and Fer was driving slowly. He confirmed you were coming before leaving the house.

When he parked, he noticed Marc's car parked in front of the building. To his luck, the parking lot was being modified, so he needed to park in the nearby building.

"Oye, I'll find somewhere to park. There's a little office, white door to the left. Wait for me there."

He does as he's told, walking with his head down. Still feeling the pain from all the drinking he did.

"Hola?" He asks, opening the door a little before entering.

He looks at all the things on the walls, the chair textures, the floor wood, the bar design, the lamps options.

He's in love with all the ideas, with the little real-life version of what the restaurant will look like. With the little pink pen notes the designer left. The door opening can't bother him. Looking at all the planning that they made in so little time.

You can't even blame him, you weren't paying much attention either. Focusing on answering Marc's text about something related to a change that needed to he approved as soon as possible.

"Hola Fer. Sorry I haven't gotten a chance to greet you properly. I've been so busy with all this little things."

You open your bag to search for your iPad, wanting to show him everything quickly to move out and not waste more time.

Pedri turns quickly, the sound of your voice amazes him. You're there after so long. After all this time.

"Hey about the Marble, I think it's best if we just switch the whole piece. This is taking so long." You won't turn, he won't say a word. "Fer?"

The two of you are just standing there, looking at each other, no words in between. Nothing.

Pedri thought a lot about what would happen if he ever saw you again. Definitely all that planning went out the window the second he heard your voice.

You practice too, what if you find him in a bar some day in Barcelona? You wouldn't mind it. But you're minding it very well.

"Hola." You finally say, voice breathless and gone.

His eyes are rooming you up and down. He can't help but point at every little detail that's different about you, different in a good way. You feel the heat coming up your cheeks. He's there, looking more mature, more handsome.

You shake your head, you have one job to do, getting the changes approved to the project move forward.

"Is your brother coming? Because I really need him to approve this for me." You grab your iPad, tying to look uninterested.

"Oh, I can approve it." He extend his hand and you hand him the device. "Just explain to me what this is exactly?"

While you explain every little detail about the changes, showed him how it was before to compare and to see if he likes it.

He likes everything, but there's something about the way you talk, something about the way you smell, you didn't change that perfume you love.

"I like your hair." Your hair is longer. He loves that. You always talked about wanting to let it grow to try new hairstyles.

You smile, the closeness not helping the situation. "Thank you." You say softly.

You might act calm, but from the inside, you're about to burst because of the way he looks. It's a good thing he changed his style.

Also his perfume, he's using the same perfume you gave him once, he didn't change it. And that facial hair is gone, he's shaved and clean.

"Do you like how everything is, or do you want to make any more changes?" You ask, trying to act professional.

"I mean, you're a star. This looks amazing." He praise you. Making you feel a wave of pride. "Fer will love this."

Your smile grows, you're happy he likes the changes. But you like even more the way he's praising you work like never before.

"So how are you?"

You close the iPad, sending Marc an "approval" copy of the digital prototype. "I'm good, been working hard and I've been busy with it." You shrug, not sure what else to say. "Congrats on the UCL, I heard you guys won."

He smiles, winning the game with his two goals was more than he ever expected. "We did, thank you."

"two goals huh?" You tease him. Feeling a little confident.

He rolls his eyes playfully. Laughing at your teasing. "I'm kind of proud of that, I'm in my Messi era? Or something like that."

You both laugh, you missed this, miss having someone to joke to. You back away from his circle, haven't seen his friends since then, when you are in Tenerife you won't go to his parents Tasca.

You missed having someone from your past in Barcelona. Someone who knew you before the city, someone who knew you as well as he did.

"That's great." You pat his arm. "I guess I'll see you around." You walk with him to the entrance. "Tell your brother I'll text him, I still need to show him some things."

"Sure, if not, you can text me. It won't hurt if I get a little more involved." He throws the jab at you, noticing your little lip smile.

"I'll ask your brother to send me your number." You say, stopping in from of the exit door. "Bye." You walk over the construction area, he can't keep his eyes away from you.

When he's out, Fernando is waiting for him in his car, the smile he has, knowing what he did. He acts as if nothing happened, he couldn't find parking and wait for you.

"Hey, was everything looking good?"

Pedri scuff, shaming his head while smiling. "Hijo'puta" he jokes, hitting him in the head. "You didn't told me she was here"

"I wanted to surprise you."

"Joder, she looks beautiful. Her smile hasn't changed at all, and her eyes, mierda, are shining like crazy."

Fernando is happy hearing Pedri talk about you, he haven't seen him this happy in a long time. Haven't talk about anyone like this in a long time.

"Her perfume, Dios mio. She hasn't changed that perfume, the same since we met." He's still rambling about you. "You didn't tell me, why?"

"I thought it was for the best, plus you were finding out once you started coming."

"Would it be crazy if I confess that I might be in love still?"

The smile on their faces is comical. Fer knew he never forgot you, and Pedri was just admitting it out loud.

"No." He laughs. "You have one more chance, dude. Don't blow it."

And he doesn't.

Every chance he gets now, he will visit the place. He will be there even tho there's nothing of interest happening.

He loves making small talk with you. Having you explain everything you do or everything you order.

It's weeks and weeks of him doing this, bringing you a coffee or drink every time. You can't help but smile at him, still remembering your order of drink.

Also if he has training in the evenings, he will bring you something to eat for lunch. Worrying because you don't give yourself a little break. In his words.

"This is what I was telling you the other day. If you put this on the bar, it will look better than this other one." You show him, thinking he's playing attention.

"Let me take you out on a date."

You smile, not sure what to say. You want to accept, you still have feelings for him. But you don't want to feel what you used to feel when you were with him.

"Please, I know a place you would love."

"Pedri, I don't think it's a good idea. We are working together and if this doesn't go well its just going to be awkward for us."

"It will not, please just give me a chance." he beggs, grabbing your hands. "If you don't like it or you don't feel good I promise I will back off."

His hands on yours, thumbs caressing your fingers. You want to say no, not repeating the pattern. But you want to give him the chance his asking.

"Vale, but you have to promise me that you won't wear those ugly skinny jeans."

He laughs, he knows how much you used to hate those kind of jeans. Always asking him to let you into his closet to get rid of them.

"If you want to you can dress me, I'll be Ken and you can style me all the way."

You shake your head no while laughing, "I don't think you'll like me throwing half your closet."

If you had. A chance back then, those Jean shorts and skinny jeans were a must in the out of the closet list.

"Let's go tonight, I'll pick you up and everything."

You nod, writing your address in a pink post it. Thing that make him smile, you loved leaving little notes for him everywhere in his house or car.

"pick me up by 8?" You ask, making him nod. "Te veo entonces." You kiss his cheek goodbye.

You do your best work trying to act normal. When you're on your car you let a big scream. You were excited.

It's been six years, obviously it was nerve breaking.

You hurry home, you have time to calmly change and get ready. You picked a nice outfit, nothing too casual or too formal. The perfect middle point.

You have a long everything shower. Making sure to be as smooth as possible. It's not like you're thinking about doing anything but just to be sure.

Pedri was doing basically the same thing, making sure everything is clean and nice for the night.

He even make sure his car is in neat condition, asking Fer to go to a car wash to get it ready.

"You look fine, niño." Fer reassure him again. "vete ya, or you'll be late."

"Deseame suerte."

"You don't need it, just don't fuck this up and you'll be fine." Fer laughs.

You pass around your livingroom, you boots heel making a sound with every strep. You wanted this to go well.

The doorbell made you freeze. You check mentally if everything is good. Check yourself on the little mirror before opening the door.

"Hola, guapa."

"Hola." You blush a little at the compliment. "What is this?"

He hands you the small bouquet of your favorite flower. "A little souvenir from me, to you."

You small at the little game of words, you taught him that. Every time you got him something you used to say that to him.

You like how he tries to fix the past by not making the same mistakes, he bought you flowers, like you say you wanted back then.

"Gracias, get in, I'll put them on water."

He checks your house, he can't deny that he loves your taste, always did. You have a beautiful house.

His eyes land on a specific blanket, he gifted you that on your second anniversary. He remembered that you wanted the blanket and since he was winning some money on Las Palmas. He went out and got it for you.

"You still have this?" He caresses the material. Memories of how happy you were when you got the gift.

You check what he was talking about, smiling a little when you see what he means. "I do. I love that blanket." You grab your bag and stand next to him. "Plus, I usually watch movies or take naps on the couch, so it's the perfect location."

You walk to your door, making him follow you. "I didn't think you had it still."

"That means you don't have any of the gifts I've ever given you?" You joke, knowing most of the things you gave him were clothes.

He thinks for a second, he does have a ring you gave him for his birthday, he loves that ring. Or the bracelet with an eight engraved.

"I do." he smile, he had everything you gifted him. "I have the ring you gave me when I turned eighteen."

When you walk to the car you see a black Lexus. "Where is the Porsche?" You ask as he opens the door for you.

"Had to upgrade a little bit."

You see a crazy clean car, smelling fresh. You laugh a little, he was never this clean with his car.

The drive to the place was confortable, he asked you about your past works and you asked him about football. The usual.

Dinner was fine, you did liked the place and the food. He was right about it. He even ordered dessert and acted as if the waitress had forgotten the other one just to share it with you.

"It was amazing, thank you very much." You say, turning back to face him as you reach your front door. "I had so much fun"

He steps closer to you, hands on your waist. "That means this is me winning my chance with you?"

Your breathing accelerates. His closeness is making things to you. The tip of his nose is touching yours. You nod at his question, unable to say something.

He smiles, he can tell by your accelerate breathing and the way your hands are on his arms that you don't mind him being this close.

He lay his head on your shoulder, hands on your back and thumbs caressing your sides. Your hands roam his arms. Scratching lightly.

"You have practice tomorrow." You say as you finally get some sense back into you. "And it's getting late."

"I think they will be fine without me there. I just won us the UCL."

His breathing on your neck is tempting. But you want to take things slowly, you want to take baby steps with him.

"I don't." You try to think of an excuse on why he can't stay. "I don't have an extra toothbrush."

He laughs, understanding the message. He wants to go slowly too, proving that he's not the same one who hurt you.

Plus, you are not one of his one night stands, he doesn't want you to feel like one. "Oh no! That means I have to go home." He kiss your collarbone and pull away from you.

You fix a piece of his hair, hand on his arm, securing yourself. "I like your hair like this." Your nails brush his hair. Making him close his eyes at the sensation.

"I'll come see you after training." He pulls away from you. "I really want to take you out again, I missed this."

"I would love that." You kiss his cheek goodbye. Entering you house and waving him a quick goodbye.

The whole trip home was him and his mom on the phone. He always trusted Rosy with anything, her and his father were the first people he calls when something good or bad happens.

He's mad, throwing his phone on the coffee table next to him.

He doesn't understand how people get to judge him based on things that are not related to football. On the field, he does the work. He makes sure he does assists, he even got some goals like the two of the last game.

He's good, he won't say otherwise. It took him so much effort to admit that he's as good as everybody else and saying he's not is unfair to his work and progress.

"Don't mind the things people say on the internet about you."

"I can't help it. Those random dudes on x saying things about me as if they know me."

"Their opinion don't matter." You pull him by the shoulders. He lays on top of you, hiding his face on the crock of your neck. "Don't let a random person affect your day."

You two have been seeing each other for three months, he makes sure to always go check on you after or before practice.

Always bring you something, some flowers, some coffee or a drink. Something to eat. Named it, and it'll be there.

He loves how much you two progress, and you love how much he showed you he changed, how much different he is from who he was back in the day.

"Don't go to work today, stay with me." He pouts.

You smile, nails scratching his scapl. "I have to go, either way your brother will be blowing my phone with questions and worries about every other thing."

"Block him." He jokes, knowing that Fernando was a perfectionist and wants this project to be as perfect as possible. "Seriously do." He kiss your shoulder before getting off of you.

"If I do I'll be fired." You joke back.

He makes a face. "They can't fire you. I'll get you back in." kissing your lips as he hugs your waist, head on your lap. "I don't want to do anything today."

Your fingers scratch his head, trying to calm him down. "I'll be here later, we can watch something on tv."

He nods, loving the feeling of your hands on his hair. Calming down from his frustration. He missed that, the level of confort, not needing to hide to feel intimacy, he missed feeling happy with a girl.

"I wish I could stay, but right now, I'm the one who calms your brother down when he gets perfectionist with every little detail." He understood, enjoying the feeling of being in your arms.

✨️✨️✨️

"Am I crazy or are the lights way too yellow?" Fer asks, judging every little detail he feels is wrong. "And the material, do you think is okay?"

You wanted to laugh, this was a very common thing with clients, they all freak out with the progress.

"Fernando, please don't worry. I promise this would look amazing in a few weeks when things are more placed and organized."

He nods, going to question Marc about something he thought was not right. You move to your office, wanting to organize your things.

You answer Pedri's text, and he told you he was bored and lonely without you. You laugh and answer with a picture of your messy desk.

You hear a knock on your door. "Can I come in?" When you see who it is, your eyes light up.

"Oh my God! Hello." You say happily.

"How are you, nena? I missed you."

"I've been good, working like crazy. You know me, kinda workaholic." You laugh. "How are you? How's Fernando and how's the Tasca doing?"

"We're fine, the Tasca is doing great, a lot of people. You need to go back and pay us a visit." Rosy says, taking a seat next to you. "Fer told me you were working with them, I'm so happy for you."

You love Rosy, she was like a mother to you. She took care of you when you needed it. She cooked for you, she went to your high school graduation when your family couldn't.

She was special to you, really loved her like a family, the same with Fernando. They were family.

You got away from them after the breakup, you needed space and so did Pedri. You thought that invading his space by being near his family was wrong. That's why when you were on Tenerife you didn't went out to see them.

"I am, I didn't know it was them when I got into the project. I'm happy I did. I've missed them."

You talk for a while about different topics, mostly her telling you about all the things that happened all this years.

You also told her about your years, how you ended up with this job and how it was. It was nice to have the talk you two had.

"I missed you, I miss my daughter." She confess. You smile at that. You missed them too.

"I missed you too, sorry I didn't come back to your place. I thought it was the right thing to do after the breakup."

"I get it." She grabs your hands. "Pedri also told me that you guys were trying to see if things work out again."

You smile, nodding. "We are, I feel like we both want that and I feel this is the right thing to do."

"I hope it works out for you two, I want my girl back." She hugs you.

You two talk a little more until Fer went looking for his mom. You grab your things and walk with them to the entrance. You all say goodbye to Marc, asking him to text or call you if he needs anything.

You say goodbye to them, saying that you will call Fer to meet up for lunch on another occasion.

✨️✨️✨️

"Do you want a little smoothie?" You ask Pedri as he walked downstairs. "I made a banana and strawberry one."

He nods, walking over to you. He wraps his arms around your waist, kissing your shoulder and your neck.

"I have training at two." He says in a raspy voice. "And I have to pack, will you help me, preciosa?"

You nod, passing him a glass with smoothie. You kiss his forehead and fix his hair a little. "We can work on your luggage after training. I have a meeting and I can't keep missing work." You bop his nose.

He smirks, he knows you work hard, but you have been missing some days of work thanks to him. You didn't have that much problem since they were the one who hired you, and Marc was okay with your working from home.

"I'll pick you up after practice." He smile, kissing you. "I'll get us some food and we can watch your favorite movie while you help me."

You both enjoy your smoothies, talking a little about different topics. Not caring about anything else but each others company.

He planned to ask you to go to the ceremony with him in Paris, he wanted you there, he needed you as much as his family there.

He went to practice, the technical team and his teammates organized him and Gavi a little celebration for good luck.

"I need to know what cream this dude is using because those bags under his eyes disappeared in no time." Raphinha jokes. Hugging him.

They are all in the bathroom, having a chat while getting clean and fresh to go home.

"He's using vitamin love." Ferran jokes from the bathroom. "He's a lover boy now."

They all hit Pedri's head while congratulating him about being in love. He enjoys the messing.

"Venga, this is not a crazy new." He says, fixing his hair.

"It is." Fermin says, hitting the back of his head. "You were the whore of the group and Ferran is here, take that in."

"Mira capullo, I'm a saint." Ferran yells.

"Joer', it was not that bad." He tried to justify himself.

"It was." Gavi says. "That why we are happy that you have a stable relationship. With someone you love and who loves you." Gavi hugs him. Making all the others hug him too.

After the shower chat, he left looking for some flowers, looking for some fresh food from your favorite place, your favorite dessert.

He knocks on your door. When you open, you're greeted by a big bouquet of flowers, you smile taking them from him.

"Hola." He smiles. "You look so pretty." He close the gap between you two kissing your lips. "I have our dinner in the car, ready to go?" You nod, putting your flowers in a pot before leaving with him.

Your relationship has improved, you love the effort he's making.

When you broke up, you told him he didn't have time for you, that he never gave you flowers, he never cared for you to feel like you matter to him.

He wants to change that. He wants you to feel validated, and he wants you to feel loved. Because he loves you and would change a thing about you.

"I have a little something for you." You say, picking the little box and putting it in your purse. "Let's go, guapo."

He asks about it, questioning you about the content inside the box. You told him that he has to wait until later to find out.

When you two arrive at his house, you help him with his bag. Talking about something you saw on tv the other day.

"I forgot to tell you, Gavi and Ferran say hi." He says as you walk into his room. Food in hand. "And Ferran wants to know if you can unlock him on Instagram." He laughs.

You laugh with him, promising you will do it later. You left your phone charging downstairs, so he had to wait.

"Do you know what you want to take?" You ask him, your eyes fixed on the screen as you search for your movie. "It's cold, and you have to have some outfits just in case. What if you got an outing that needs something formal?"

He nods. "I have a list on my phone of what I want to take, some cargos, a bumper jacket, the suits are being taken by Dolce."

He pulls a luggage, opening it on the bed so you can help him pick the clothes and help him with organizing.

It was a fun time. You ate while organizing and feeding him most of his food to help him some more.

"Oye." He calls your attention. "I want to speak with you about something."

You nod, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. He was standing in front of you. "Tell me."

He takes a deep breath. He needs to be prepared for a bad answer in case you don't feel comfortable with the invitation.

"I want you to know that no matter what, you can say no, and I'll be okay with that." He began saying. "I want you to come with me to the ceremony." He says.

He takes a few more breaths. Trying to prepare himself for the question. "I want you to come with me and my family. I want you all there. My mom, my dad, Fer, and you." He grabs your hands. "The thing here is, I know our relationship is not established as in right now, but I want to know if you would like to come with me as my girlfriend."

You smile. Thumbs caressing his hands.

You need to talk with him before compromising yourself again.

Yes, he did progress. Yes, he did change. Yes, he was better.

But you can't swipe things under the rug. You can't be one of those who start over without making peace with the past.

"Can you sit down with me?"

He nods, taking a seat next to you. He thinks you're saying no, preparing himself for that.

"I want to talk to you." You began. "Before answering your questions, I need you to compromise with me on something."

He nods, already agreeing with whatever you want to say.

"I need you to compromise and tell me if you ever feel like what we have is bothering you. If what we do is making you question our relationship. I want you to be honest with me. To trust me and to be straightforward with how you feel and how I make you feel."

He's surprised, he thought he was getting bad news but no.

"If we are doing this again, Pepi, talk to me." You giggle. "I want your honesty, I want your opinions, I want the long run with you. But I need a compromise." You grab his hands. "I'm not getting younger, I want a family, I want someone to come home to after a long day, after a sad day or just after work. Someone to spend my weekends with watching something or reading a book. And if you can't do that or simply just don't want to. It's okay." You smile at him. "Just be honest."

He frees his hands, grabbing your cheeks and kissing you. "I promise you that I will be the most honest person you'll ever know." He smiles. "I promise that you never were a bother and never will. I want the same as you, I want everything."

You hug him tightly. Sitting on his lap as his hands roam up and down your back.

It felt right. It felt necessary.

You finally got your past to be friends with your present.

"Now about what I asked, if you could answer." He says, giggling a little.

"Yes, to everything." You kiss his lips.

"Also about the gift?" He asks, curious.

"Yeah, you'll wait more than just a few minutes." You say, caressing his cheeks. "But I'll be worthy."

✨️✨️✨️

"Do I look fat in this tuxedo?" Fer asks.

Everyone in the room takes a look at him, questioning if it was the nerves of the situation or if he was serious.

"No." His father says, he wanted to laugh but kept it.

They continue helping with getting ready, leaving soon after everything seems under control.

Pedri and you were alone, finishing with your clothes and looks for the gala. You reassure him that his tux and hair looked good.

"Amor, everything will go the way it is supposed to go." You kiss him quickly. "Trust yourself."

He nods, hugging you to calm his nerves. He can't deny that he's not feeling as confident as he says in the news or interviews.

A knock on the door makes you separate. "Pedri, ready?" His manager asks.

He nods, taking a last look of himself in the mirror. When he's about to leave, your eyes caught the glare of the little box in the nightstand.

"Wait, your gift." You say, walking to the furniture and grabbing the box to take it to him. "Open it before we leave."

You were excited for him to see what's inside. You kept it a surprise until today, knowing he would be less nervous like this.

"How?" He asks, taking the tux bow out of the box. He recognized the piece. "I thought I lost it."

You smile. The bow has a meaning for him. He bought it before leaving to play for Las Palmas. He spent a good part of his savings on it.

"You told me, before leaving the island, that this was the bow you were going to wear when you got your first ballon d'or." You help him with taking the bow he has on and putting the new one in place. "And tonight, this is happening."

He feels his eyes getting teary. He can't help but think about his little self buying the bow at the local shop.

He knew back then that no matter what, he was going to work hard to get into that nominations and into the podium.

And he did.

"Te amo." He kiss you quickly. "Ahora vamos por ese jodido balón." He laughs, making you laugh. (I love you. Now let's go get that damn ballon)

pedri

Liked by pablogavi, fcbarcelona and 3

8,566,730 others

pedri De las mejores noches de mi vida ❤️

Thank you Culers for all the love and support. Without you, this wouldn't be happening. This is not only mine but yours too ❤️

View all 2,465,739 comments

fcbarcelona Our winner 🏆❤️💙

ferrantorres grande hermano ❤️8️⃣🐐

leomessi felicidades Pedri 🐐 bienvenido al club de campeones 💪🏻

🏷: @gadriezmannsgirl @mbappe-pedri @coco6514 @coco657 @gavisfanta @jajajhaahaha @urmotheris @dessxoxsworld @girlidekanymore @lanussysworld @largavidaalsol

[skipper1331]

Loyalty and Love // Leah Williamson

warnings: dead family member

Leah was a gooner through and through, never been seen in a different club jersey than the arsenals as she was Arsenals biggest fan.

She went through all the youth team stages until she reached the senior team. Her body was full of loyalty to the club while your career path was very different - something Leah did not like about you.

Your career started at your hometown club near Bavaria, Germany, until FC Bayern München became aware of you. You were the only girl in the league and still scored the most goals. So to be fair, your actual club career started at the FC Bayern academy. You started there at the age of 10 and played there until the age of 16.

At 16 years old, you said good bye to Germany and played for Ajax in the Netherlands. You played two years for them and enjoyed every second with the Ajax family, yet after those two years, you transferred to AS Roma. You had many transfer offers, inside the league and outside of it but even though, you had transferred a few times already, you had one rule: never play in the same league with a different club. Roma sent you on loan to Olympique Lyon where you won the champions league and the league, each time as a key player of the team. OL offered you a real contract which you gladly signed - winning the treble. After three years in France, where you had learned a lot technical stuff but also had developed further as a person, it was time for a new challenge. A new club and country.

Spain was calling, FC Barcelona to be exact. After a teary good bye, you left for good - it was time to shine at Barcelona.

Your talent was magical, you could score from every angle, no matter the position and the fans loved you.

You had been nominated for numerous awards, won many of them yet still you were the kindest person. You always made time for the fans, signed jerseys, took photos and chatted with them. You were down-to-earth.

Of course you had haters, people not liking your volatility but you didn‘t care. You had a mission and would continue it, no matter if you had no fan at all or a the whole woso community behind you. So while your job was to score goals, you only had one goal in mind.

You loved the Spanish weather, you loved the City, you loved the girls. They made Barcelona your home and more than that. Playing alongside Alexia, Mapi, CGH, Aitana and literally every one on the squad was amazing. It was the way they played and the mentality they had that fascinated you.

The first season at Barcelona was the season you won the Ballon D‘or, while still being so young. The combination of the playing style that you learned in the individual clubs in each country also made you Fifas the best. You were the best.

On the pitch, every opponent was afraid of you while off pitch they adored you. It broke your heart to leave Barcelona, the City you adored. So why did you leave? It was the thing you had to do. The thing you promised yourself at the age of 16 when you left Bayern - Arsenal would be your last stop ever. The thing you promised someone. Your retirement club, you would stay there forever - as long as they offered you a contract.

-

While everybody had greeted you with open arms at your arrival, the skipper kept her distance, only talking to you when necessary. Leah was skeptical to say at least, some things bothered her about you. She didn‘t appreciate your transfers nor respected them. Every country? Really? Why Arsenal? Her childhood club? How long did you want to play here before you stab the team in the back? When another country became interesting? Maybe the US? Sweden?

And then the tape. The strip of tape on your shoulder, it didn‘t make any sense to her. It didn‘t seem like you had problems with your shoulder nor an injury in the last few years (which she had obviously checked) so why the tape? She - well actually everyone, never saw you without. When it slowly started to look rancid, the next second it looked like new again. When you changed, even in the shower after playing it was always there. Were you hiding something?

Leah didn‘t like you, it was clear as the day but (even if she would never admit it out loud) you were a fantastic footballer. Your feet could do magic with the ball, from assisting to scoring to defending, everything you did on the pitch was faboulous. That, she had to appreciate, maybe you would help Arsenal to win the league.

This season. who knows how long you‘ll stay.

-

After your first month with the gunners, you knew for sure, your heart and brain realized it for the first time: after years, you had finally fulfilled your promise.

You felt peace, nothing more. Maybe you could forgive yourself someday.

-

Over time, Leah‘s dislike towards you turned into much more - hate. When you were near the blonde, she would glare at you or leave the room,

the moments you tried to talk to her, to get to know her, she ignored you and

she would rudely comment on the things you said.

After months of trying, you just stopped. If she doesn‘t want to talk to you that‘s okay. You didn’t have to be friends - colleagues, that‘s it.

-

"When I visited Greece-" you started to tell Lia about the beauty of the country when her work wife cut you off, "wow, Y/L/N, a country you didn‘t play in, really respectable" Leah spat, rolling her eyes. Lia smacked the back of her head, her behavior unbelievable.

It was no secret that the defender felt some sort of dislike towards you - noticeable for your team mates and especially for the swiss as she knew Leah like the back of her hand.

"Ignore her" the midfielder stated, asking you to continue your story.

"It‘s fine" not in the mood to tell the end of your Greece-story, you left the two LW‘s joining Vic as she juggled with the ball.

"You really need to stop that" the swiss international grumbled, "she‘s actually really nice"

"And her loyalty sucks! I won’t let her ruin this club"

The brunette watched the blonde march away, arms crossed.

-

Leah‘s behavior continued like that, rude comments sent your way, cut off mid sentence and ignorance accompanied you every single day. But your mindset was clear: you couldn’t be bothered by her.

You understood that Leah was skeptical of you, you‘re new and played for several clubs but on the pitch you played your absolute best each game. You deserved at least some respect.

-

"Where‘s hopper?" Leah asked - you’re never late. Her new nickname for you showed her antipathy towards you yet hiding it well enough, so other people outside of the team wouldn’t get suspicious.

"She‘s on her way home for a few days" Lia replied calmly, not wanting the blonde to explode.

You had texted Lia about your plans earlier this morning - she was your friend after all. Just because she was great friends with Leah, didn‘t mean you couldn’t be friends with her too. Like I said, you were friends with the whole team, just not with Leah. Besides you enjoyed talking to Wally as it was in your mother tongue, conversation flowing with an ease.

"What the fuck?! She does know we‘re playing a derby this weekend!" The England captain growled, marching out of the changing room, already calling you. Who do you think you were?

Her calls went straight to voicemail which only angered and frustrated her more. why were you so infuriating?

The defender was quick to approach to Jonas - what was the thinking letting you leave? Did he even know about this?

"Why did you let her leave?!" the woman asked loudly and harshly. You made her blood boil. "Is she playing on Saturday? You should kick her out of the squad! This behavior is unacceptable" she scolded.

Even though Leah knew the team would need you, she was too caught up in her anger.

"Who are you talking about?" the coach asked rather confused. Was he missing something?

"Your new signing" she huffed out frustrated, how can he be this clueless?

"She‘s not here. Apparently at home in Germany, did you know about this?"

"Oh! Yes, I know about this. It‘s in her contract"

"What do you mean? In her contract?"

"She‘s allowed to leave, no matter what day, at-" he looked at his watch, checking the date, "at the 20th of March for three days. One day to get there, one day to stay, one day to leave" he explained.

"Why?"

"I can’t tell you that"

-

On game day, you arrived on time at the stadium, your favourite defender already impatiently waiting for you in the locker room. When you entered the room, she was about to stomp over, telling you how your behavior was unacceptable and jeopardizing the team but something told her not to. Your shoulders were sagged, your eyes red and puffy as you had bags under them ad well - it looked like you had been crying for awhile and not sleeping either. You looked small and sad, but not the sadness-sad, somehow it looked like grieving-sad or guilty-sad. Leah didn't know if her analysis was correct, after all, she didn't know you as you weren’t friends - not even close to that - and to the others it seemed like you were your usual self.

As you walked past her to get to your cubby, she grabbed your hand. "Are you okay?" she asked, genuinely concerned about your well-being. Her stone cold persona towards you was gone for the moment, eyes scanning your face - what was wrong? How can she help you?

"I‘m fine, Leah"

Her hand had a firm grip on yours yet it was so gentle and soft - it was almost like you could feel her 'caring' about you.

But you knew, she only cared about the team and not about you.

"Thank you for asking, though" you smiled a bit, before leaving her touch and walking over to your cubby.

You didn't want to be rude to her because it seemed like she was dead serious about her question. Besides, if you wanted to have at least a somewhat normal work-relationship with her, this might was a step in the right direction.

However, you had to admit, the feeling of her holding your hand was quite nice and made you hope for eventually being friends one day.

-

The game started with you on the bench as agreed with Jonas. It was his decision if he wanted to put you in or not and you respected either way. You were thankful enough that he had shown so much understanding about your family situation, so you wouldn’t be the one to complain about not playing.

Next to you on the bench sat the one and only Leah Williamson, who watched the game very carefully, attentively and critically - the same as you did. In your heads, the two of you analyzed what happened on the field, every bad pass, every unused space or loss of the ball was noted while you tried to come up with solutions. While Leah stated her analysis to everyone at half time, you talked to the relevant person what they should pay particular attention to - most opponents had the same playing style, even if the tactics were changed. Overall, it wasn't the played game in general that mattered, but rather the individual players on the field. If you watched them long enough, it wasn't too difficult to outplay them and their team - Leah and you knew that.

Both of you got subbed on in the 74th minute, the defender doing her job brilliantly while you ran down the wing. The game seemed like it had shifted as soon as the two of you took in your positions. Chances were created, space was used, passed connected perfectly - in all honestly, Tottenham didn‘t have any control over the match anymore, thanks to Leah and your critical eyes.

The score changed when Leah sent a ball flying towards you. With one quick motion, you dribbled around the defender, firing a shot on goal - Tottenhams goalkeeper stood no chance.

That evening a special chemistry was born between your favourite defender and her favourite hopper.

-

If you were hoping that the 'how are you' question meant something, you were wrong.

Her arrogant attitude got worse, as did her mean behavior towards you. You thought that maybe, just maybe, the link up on the pitch earned you enough respect that she at least refrains from commenting. Yet she questioned everything you did and not only that: you were regularly asked whether you would leave the club at the end of the season or whether you would leave one season after that. At this point you felt helpless, you didn’t know what her problem was with you - she seemed like a nice person towards everyone else.

"Come on, Leah, leave me alone" you grumbled as she stood next to you in the locker room with her arms crossed. Especially today she was getting on your last nerve. You hadn‘t slept well the last few days and the bickering was getting more and more exhausting.

"You weren‘t concentrated today" she stated, "this isn‘t acceptable at Arsenal."

"Leah-" Wally tried to stop her but there was no chance. She wouldn’t hold back.

"No, she has to know. She‘s played at enough clubs to know that she has to give 100%!"

"As if you haven‘t had a bad day before"

"I can keep things professional"

"No you can‘t! If you could, you would leave me the fuck alone. You are all judgy but never played somewhere else than Arsenal, so get a fucking grip. At least I have the experience of other leagues"

The whole changing room gasped, Katie smirking, happy that you stood your ground. Leah’s behavior was ridiculous. And this time she took it too far.

On an emotional level, your week had been absolutely shitty.

It‘s like a haunted house, only you‘re the ghost.

On an physical level, you were exhausted.

So, neither emotionally nor physically you could deal with her at the moment.

"Watch your mouth-" the defender started before you cut her off.

"No, you will watch yours" your pointer finger angrily poked her chest, "Listen to me closely, I will not repeat myself. You, Leah Williamson, will stay away from me. I‘m not your friend, I’m not your mate, I’m your colleague, so treat me with damn respect" with that you grabbed your stuff and left.

Leah was breathing heavily, your anger awfully attractive.

"Why are you being like this?" McCabe asked, the girls in the room waiting for an answer. This couldn’t be just because you played for several clubs and she was questioning your loyalty - there had to be more.

"Because she‘s hiding something! I won‘t let her ruin this club" she growled, sitting down in her cubby.

"What should she be hiding?" Steph questioned, you seemed like an honest and truthful person.

"She literally left for three days out of nowhere!"

"She did that when we played at Barca together too" Laia added. She had never thought about that before. But Leah was right, it was unusual to not show up at training when you weren‘t injured or sick, especially since it was in the middle of the season.

"See!"

"I still don’t see the problem" Steph shrugged her shoulders, "she‘s a lovely person and you would know that if you gave her the chance to show it" with that the Australian left. You were such a lovely girl, at least someone had to defend you. Partly, Steph could understand where Leah was coming from - that girl was bleeding Arsenal red.

After Steph had left, the other girls started to leave too, Leah and Kim the only ones left.

Leah was sorting through her bag, checking if she had everything she needed when Kim broke the silence, "Her brother died when she was 16. The 21st of March is the day of his death"

Leah stopped her movements, "what?" she turned around, the colour leaving her face.

"That’s all I know"

Kim grabbed her bag, walking past the blonde, about to leave, "I’m disappointed in you, Leah. We're a family here, and you didn't show her that. Have you ever thought about why she played in every league? You’re criticizing but not questioning. You doubt her loyalty, but she hasn't transferred within the league - doesn't that show her respect for the club she‘s played at?"

"Kim-"

"Have a nice evening"

Alone in the changing room, Leah tried to process the information, now it made sense that you were at home for a few days. It was his anniversary.

She had been a complete ass to you without knowing your story - she still didn't. However, for the first time she felt something like interest. She wanted to get to know you. She wanted to know your story. But most of all she wanted to apologize. You seemed like a sweet girl.

Of course, most of her questions were still unanswered: the tape? Why did you transfer so much? You‘re young.. but for the first time she didn't care. She fucked up and was determined to start over.

I‘m disappointed in you, Leah.

-

At home, the defender sat on her couch, eating some food while the tv was showing her favourite show. This wasn’t right. She couldn’t wait till tomorrow. She had to talk to. Now.

Leaving her food on the table, the blonde called Lia, asking where you lived. The Swiss was hesitant to tell her as she wanted to protect you but Leah sounded genuinely upset about her own behavior.

"Please.. I- I‘m in the wrong here, I know that now. I don‘t want her to go to bed angry or feeling like she‘s not a part of the Arsenal family."

After that, the Swiss texted your address, the England captain already on her way.

When she arrived at her destination, she felt nervous. She rang the bell, hoping you wouldn’t open. She wasn‘t prepared at all - she didn’t know what to say or how to make things up with you.

In that moment, she realized maybe it was a hasty decision to just show up in front of your door and apologize. It wouldn’t be deserved to accept the apology straightaway.

"Leah?" you said surprised.

"Hopper" it was almost inaudible as you had knocked the air out of her lungs. You looked breathtaking. No, it wasn‘t something fancy - you wore an oversized shirt and some shorts while your hair was down but you looked naturally beautiful.

"What are you doing here? I told you to leave me alone"

"I- um.. I came to apologize?"

"Are you asking me that?"

"I came to apologize"

"Go home, Leah-"

"Give me a chance-"

"No. Look, I don’t know why you are here or what your problem is but I don‘t want to play your sick games" you stepped back, closing the door, leaving the defender dumbfounded in front of your home.

"I know about you brother!" she called, helpless on what do to. But as soon as the word 'brother' left her mouth, she regretted it.

The door was thrown open, "what did you just say?!" you were angrier than ever. Your family had always been a sensitive subject.

"I know about your brother" the audacity Leah had to repeat her words was unbelievable.

She squeezed herself inside, looking around.

"I swear to god, if you don‘t leave-"

"I‘m really sorry" she turned around, you didn‘t know if she was talking about your brother or how she had treated you and neither did she. Either way, it made you furios, you were balling your hands into fists, trying to stay calm.

"Is that him?" she asked, walking to the picture frame on your shelf, "what‘s his name?"

It was a picture of the two of you as kids, both of you wearing Germany jerseys as you grinned in the camera - one of your favourite pictures.

And that made you explode. How dare she come to your home, implying to apologize which she wasn‘t and then act nosy.

You marched over, grabbing her at the collar of her shirt and pushing her against the wall, "leave me alone" you weren’t shouting but you voice was loud, clear and firm, almost intimidating.

Her breath hitched, "I can‘t" you were so close to her. She could see all tiny freckles, those which only appeared when you were in the sun. She was intrigued by you. Her eyes darted around your features, the wrinkle between your brows slowly disappearing.

You didn‘t know what came over you, but in less than a second, you smashed your lips against hers. Teeth were clashing, all anger and frustration purred in, hands gripping and pulling as both of your minds went blank. Neither of you could think about anything else but each other.

-

The day she stood in front of your apartment, wasn’t brought up again yet you had to admit something shifted in your dynamic that night.

The chemistry you had on the pitch only grew, Leah assisted while you scored countless of goals.

Her behavior wasn‘t as bad as before anymore, she started to greet you, say good bye or other acts of kindness yet every once in a while a snarky comments left her mouth.

After Arsenal had won the conti cup against Chelsea, the celebrations were on the rise when you entered the club. You saw some girls dancing around, some lingering at the bar and others sitting at the table.

You joined the girls at the table, sitting down next to Stina. Lost in conversation with the Swede you didn‘t notice a blonde defender standing right behind you with her arms crossed and a pout on her face, "you‘re sitting on my seat, hopper" she grumbled, the pout increasing.

"Sit somewhere else" you replied, not looking up as you continued your conversation which had been rudely cut off by the English woman.

"There is no seat left"

This time you turned around, looking up from your seat as the defender glared at you.

It was the first time, you had seen her tonight and she looked absolutely gorgeous with the outfit she was wearing.

"I think you‘re old enough to deal with that, aren‘t you?" you smiled sarcastically at her, once again turning to Stina.

"I am" she stated, a smug smile plastered on her face. With the alcohol in her system, she simply sat on your lap, one arm going around your shoulders while she started her own conversation. Weirdly confused but somehow not minding, you let her be, your arms going around her waist to support her. No one said anything about, most of them not realizing what was happening or simply not caring - as long as you weren‘t fighting everything seemed fine.

The night continued like that, chatting, dancing and enjoying the time.

"Could you let me get up, please? I‘d like to have another drink" you asked the defender who immediately got up, "can you bring one for me too?"

"Sure"

She smiled shyly before you left, sitting back down, Lia looking at her with a 'tell me right now what‘s going on' expression.

"What?"

"Seriously? What‘s going on between the two of you?" the Swiss asked, Leah‘s eyes already back on you as you stood at the bar, ordering.

"Nothing"

The defender’s brows furrowed when a man approached you, standing way too close to you, her jaw clenching.

She saw you taking a step to the side, intending to signal the man that you were not interested. In responds, he only stepped closer.

Angrily, the blonde stood up, marching over, "is everything alright here?" her hands settled on your waist, pulling you protectively towards her.

"Everything‘s alright, mate" the man slurred, stepping forward, "I’m just getting to know your friend."

Leah was quick to step in front of you, her hand holding onto you to know you‘re safe, "leave my girlfriend alone or I will break your nose" she threatened.

The man held his hands in surrender before he left.

In an instant, she turned around, cupping your cheeks, checking if you were alright.

"I‘m okay" you stated. What just happened? Girlfriend? Weird man? Break his nose? Girlfriend?

"Here‘s your drink"

She took her drink, resting her hand on the small of your back, guiding you back to the table.

What‘s just happened?

Lia was the only one left at the table while the others had joined the dancers. You were about to sit down on an empty chair when the blonde pulled you on her lap - roles reversed.

Raising an brow, "There are enough empty seats this time"

"I don’t care, hopper"

"I‘ll join the rest on the dancing floor" Wally said, winking at Leah whose cheeks turned red.

"You‘re so beautiful, you know" the England captain said, cheeks turning a deeper shade of red.

"How many drinks did you have?" you giggled, your fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns along the back of neck. "Not enough to punch that guy" she growled.

You laughed, "you‘re cute when you‘re jealous" not so sober yourself.

She squeezed your hips in responds, resting her head on your shoulder.

Both of you enjoyed the silence that came over you, also enjoying the closeness you shared in that moment. Leah wasn‘t forgiven and she knew that yet she couldn’t stay away from you. Somehow you were addicting.

For once, it was nice not to argue with the blonde but to enjoy her company. She was cute, you couldn’t lie.

"I‘m very sorry for my behavior" she whispered, "I’d like to start over again" you turned towards her, eyes locking, "I’m not asking for your forgiveness, just for a chance to show you that I’m not an awful person. You are a part of the Arsenal family and I’m sorry for treating you otherwise"

You let her words sink in. She was right, she couldn’t ask for your forgiveness because too much had happened already but starting over seemed like an opportunity for the both of you.

"I’m Y/N"

-

The next weeks, Leah was the sweetest person to you. Each morning, she greeted you with the widest smile and when she left the facility, she always made sure to tell you good bye. She treated you with respect and listened to everything you had to say. She was amazed by the stuff you had to say. She couldn’t care less if it was something as simple as your favourite colour or an opinion on something. Everything you said was important to her.

Soon the small talks turned into longer conversations until they were endless.

In matches, when somebody fouled you Leah was the first to stick up for you, arguing with the opponent before she argued with the ref (of course after she had made sure you were okay.)

Slowly but surely, Leah earned your trust and appreciation.

She wasn‘t just anybody - she was Leah Williamson and once she had set her mind, you couldn’t stop her from doing it.

She wasn‘t the Leah you had met at your arrival - she changed for good. She was much more. She was funny, loving and caring, attentive and respectful - she was actually an amazing woman and your friend.

-

Standing in the kitchen of Leah’s apartment, you made dinner for the both of you while she sat on the counter watching you and eating the ingredients.

The atmosphere was tranquil and relaxed as music filled the background.

Peace.

"His name‘s Sebastian" you turned around, grabbing another ingredient out of the fridge while you avoided Leah‘s eyes, painful stings in your heart. You wouldn‘t cry, not now. "He‘s three years older than me" you inhaled sharply, trying to compose yourself as you continued to cook. "You would have loved him, he was a big Arsenal fan, watched every match" you chuckled, "but was the worst player of all time. He never really was a sports guy anyway, he was rather the calm type of person. He loved to cook - that‘s actually one of his favourite recipes" you nodded your head towards the food splayed out on the counter.

The dish you were making had brought you so much comfort after his death. It felt familiar. Sometimes, you imagined him standing in the kitchen, so concentrated that his brows would furrow as he cut the vegetables or when he seasoned - never a drop too much. He was very particular when it came to cooking, but rightly so, because when he did it, it always tasted absolutely perfect.

"He used to be my best friend"

Your heart broke into pieces saying it out loud. He wasn‘t just anybody - he was your brother, the only man you ever loved and him more than anyone.

The two of you had a special bond, you basically owed him your entire career. Because it was him who kicked the ball around with you for hours,

because it was him who drove with you to training when your parents had to work,

because it was him who always watched your matches,

because it was him who always believed in you, even when you were on the verge of giving up.

He was your biggest supporter, the person who believed you could be the best footballer in the world one day and the one person who made sure that you had a life outside of football.

And even though you would have never shared your charger with him, you would have given him your lungs, so he could breathe.

"What happened to him?" Leah asked, her voice gentle, testing the waters if it was okay to ask or too much.

"When-" you closed your eyes, holding back the tears that were about to fall, "I was at a birthday party. At some point during the night I asked him to pick me up because I wasn't feeling well. He did it without hesitation. On the way home we- we got hit by a car and crashed into a tree. Both of us were conscious but he was coughing and bleeding very badly. It looked very bad. I prayed to every god I knew that they should take me and not him- they didn‘t listen" tears were streaming down your face as you aggressively cut the remaining vegetables, "his last words were 'make me proud' and i remember shouting at him but it was too late. I told him I loved him- he took his last breath with a smile on his face"

Silence filled the room, small sniffles the only thing being heard. You grabbed a tissue, blowing your nose and another one to dry your tears, "I am- was blaming myself for what happened, so I left home as soon as I could"

Leah was listening carefully, her heart aching seeing you in pain and the pain you had been through.

"I always complained about others leagues, because they seemed so easy and everything" you chuckled at the memory, "and he always was like 'you can‘t complain if you haven‘t played there'" mocking him, the most german accent in your voice, "so that’s what I did. I have played in several leagues but I always knew Arsenal would be my last stop"

Everything made sense now, Leah‘s heart broke even more, realizing what an absolute ass she was while you only had one goal in mind - to make him proud.

It was never your plan to ruin Arsenal, you wanted to stay there to fulfill the promise you had made in the night that changed your life.

-

Leah saw you with different eyes now, her heart was beating for you in more than one way. She admired you - for the way you play, how strong you are and how hard life had been for you yet still smiling throughout it.

She had to protect the ray of sunshine and the feisty beast you could be. You weren‘t just anybody - you were Y/N Y/L/N, the best footballer in the world.

The defender was a 100% sure, your brother would be more than proud of you and the woman you became.

But she also knew what she had to do. You deserved an apology, even more than that - you deserved every good thing in the world. And if she could she would take all your pain away.

-

It was in the middle of the night, all lights turned off besides in the kitchen of the blonde defender. She sat at the kitchen table, one sheet of paper and a fountain pen in front of her.

Dear Sebastian,

I’m Leah, Leah Williamson.

I've been playing for Arsenal my whole life. I've had my best and worst moments at the club. All of my best moments had to do with my team, my friends, my family, whereas my worst moments had something to do with my performance or injuries. Unfortunately, because of my loyalty and love for the club, I was blinded from seeing the important things - your sister. I never understood why she had transferred so often - it seemed like she was volatile and didn't understand loyalty and love. But she does - she does that more than anyone else.

Her loyalty was only ever dedicated to you.

She is an incredible person and I’m so sorry for the way i treated her at her arrival (I will tell her that, this time when I’m fully sober and explain everything). But I’m writing you to tell you that I like your sister, more than I ever thought I would. To be honest, that‘s the first time I’m admitting it to someone, I didn‘t even admit it fully to myself - but I do. I like her. And I guess, this is me asking for your blessing.

A blessing that I can treat her right if she lets me,

a blessing that I can always support her,

a blessing for one chance with her.

I know, there is much too make up for and my behavior will never be excused - no apology could be strong enough for what I have done - but I want you to know that I will regret it till the rest of my life.

So while you may be her biggest fan from paradise, I want to be her biggest fan from earth.

I promise to do everything in my power to be the best person she deserves.

Sincerely,

Leah Williamson

With a lighter in her pocket and the letter in her hand, she went outside on the balcony. The night was chill and quiet, the perfect atmosphere as the moon shone brightly. Her nerves were calming down and her mind seemed to find rest as she looked up in the sky, "one chance" she whispered, burning the letter. She watched the ink and paper slowly disappear, the smoke rising into the night sky. She knew it was unrealistic to expect any sign of positive responds but was it wrong to hope? When the letter was fully burned, she waited till the smoke was completely gone before she went back inside, turning off the kitchen light and making her way to bed.

When the blonde woke up the next day, she made her way to kitchen immediately, needing her morning tea. She frowned and froze.

"Hello?" she called.

No response.

She had turned off the light last night, didn‘t she?

She sure did!

Was this her sign? Was this the sign that the letter arrived?

It was his blessing.

-

"Hey" the blonde greeted you with a wide smile when you entered the changing room.

Matching her smile, "good morning" you walked to your cubby.

"What are you doing tonight?" she followed you, the smile not leaving her features. Someone woke up in a good mood, you thought.

"Going home, eating, then sleeping" you replied.

"Do you want to watch the Arsenals men game tonight? With me?"

"Are you nervous?" you asked, the defender fidgeting with her fingers as her cheeks were slowly turning red, "I’d love to watch the match with you."

And if you thought her smile couldn’t have gotten wider, you were wrong - the smile she sent you was from ear to ear.

"Perfect" with excitement in her body, she pressed a peck to your cheek before she happily skipped out of the room, the other girls watching the interaction that just happened closely.

"Are you blushing?" Katie laughed loudly as you embarrassingly turned to your bag, in fact blushing.

-

Half an hour before kick-off you rang Leah‘s doorbell, takeout in your hands. You weren‘t in the mood for cooking and Leah‘s cooking skill were eh, e for effort?, also you had been craving Chinese all day long, so that‘s what you got.

"I brought food with me!" you grinned, pushing yourself inside as soon as the blonde had opened the door.

"What did I do to deserve this?" she asked chuckling at your eagerness as you walked in her kitchen to get some plates and cutlery.

Cheekily, you replied "Nothing, I was just hungry"

Serving the food on the plates, you sat down at the table with Leah, comfortable silence filling the air while the two of you ate dinner.

Something was bothering Leah though, you could tell. Every now and then it seemed like she wanted to say something yet she closed her mouth quickly after.

"I‘m sorry for my behavior" she mumbled, "when you arrived at Arsenal, I mean" you looked up from your plate, meeting her eyes for a brief second, "I was skeptical about your loyalty and it got out of hand" carefully she laid her hand on yours, hoping you wouldn’t pull away.

You didn‘t - you wanted to hear what she had to say.

"I‘m really sorry and I know we started over, but I need you to know how sorry I am, this time without any drink in my system. You’re the most loyal person I know, I just didn‘t notice it"

"Leah" you said gently, "look at me, please"

The defender raised her head, looking at you with unsure eyes, rapidly tapping her foot under the table.

"Thank you for telling me. I guess I would have been skeptical too if I had played for the gunners my whole life" you told her, "I’m not excusing your behavior because it wasn‘t nice or appropriate but I don‘t have any bad blood against you either. In fact, I enjoy your company" you pulled her hand from hers, only to put it against her side profile, softly caressing the apple of her cheek.

Subconsciously, she leaned into your touch, "I‘m very sorry"

"I know"

The unspoken 'why' barrier was finally removed.

-

"Arsenal will win, I can feel it!" the defender stated, flopping down on the couch. With a bowl of popcorn in your hand, you sat down next to her, somehow your thighs touching even though the couch was big enough. "Liverpool is a tough opponent"

"Oh stop it! None of that"

Making herself comfortable on the couch, she turned on the tv, ready to see Arsenal win.

Getting comfortable yourself, you pulled your legs on the couch, leaning towards the armrest on the other side which earned you a glare, "what do think you‘re doing?"

"Oh, sorry" in an instant your feet were on the ground.

"No, what are you doing over there? Come here" she nodded to the space between her legs, signaling you to cuddle her.

With red cheeks and a racing heart, you crawled over, settling between her legs as your body melted into hers, head resting on her chest while her arms wrapped around you.

Leah was sure you could hear her racing heart and even though she desperately tried to concentrate on the match, she just couldn’t. With you in her arms, she wouldn’t ever want to think about anything else. You looked so precious in her arms, eyes fully focused on the tv.

"You are so beautiful" she admired, looking at you with heart eyes.

"What?"

You prompted yourself up, looking at the blonde who was smiling dazedly at you, "you are just so gorgeous" her fingers started to play with your hair as she got lost in your eyes, "let me take you on a date"

It was crazy how the mood had changed - from apologies at dinner to cuddling on the couch to asking you out.

"Okay" you smiled shyly, cheeks crimson red as your skin tingled.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah"

You stared at each other, eyes shining with adoration and passion, both of you slowly leaning in.

When your lips met, the world seemed to stop spinning, fireworks exploding as you melted into each other and Arsenal getting themselves on the scoreboard. She kissed you so gentle and tender - the complete opposite of the kiss you had shared before.

Everything was perfect.

-

After many many dates, the blonde asked you to be her girlfriend. None of your friends surprised at this point - you had always been obsessed with each other.

The two of you had been caught kissing several times, not even trying to hide it. Leah loved kissing you but she also loved physical touch in general, always holding your hand, having her arm around your midsection or her hand on your thigh while driving. She couldn’t get enough of you.

-

"Come to bed" the blonde whined, waiting for you to join her under the covers. Weirdly, neither of you could sleep good at night without being in each others embrace, so it became your routine - either Leah would sleep at your home or the other way around - this night you were at Leah‘s, and obviously you had stolen a shirt from her wardrobe as your pajamas - which she liked very much. You looked so cute in her clothes.

When you joined her, her arms were immediately wrapped around your body as she pulled you close, pressing a good night kiss on your temple.

The next morning, you woke up with hair in your face and a head resting on your chest, the blonde defender still peacefully asleep. You stayed like that for awhile, your hand gently rubbing her back before you slipped out of bed, ready to make some breakfast and your much needed coffee.

Since it was the weekend and your day off, you decided to surprise the England captain with some self made pancakes - you knew she loved them.

While Leah woke up due the feeling of your absence which turned out to be correct, something she didn‘t like. Sleeping without you was awful already but waking up without you? absolutely horrible.

Grumpily, she made her way out of the bedroom, the smell of pancakes hitting her nostrils, lightening her mood in an instant. Following the smell, she found you in the kitchen, only wearing a sports bra and some of her old Arsenal shorts - you looked cute - booping your head to the non existing music, no doubt that you were humming some song. Silently, the defender walked up behind you, her arms smacking around your stomach, "gosh, you scared me!"

"Sorry, baby" apologetic, she pressed multiple kisses on the side of your neck, fingers tracing along your sides.

You inhaled sharply when she traced along the stripe of tape on your shoulder, she had never brought it up before, respecting whatever story was behind it.

"You- you can take it off" you whispered breathlessly, anxiety and fear creeping through your body.

"Are you sure?" her lips kissed the other side of your shoulder, trying to calm you down and ease your mind.

"Yes, just- be careful, please"

and that’s exactly what she was. All of her moves were gentle and careful - you weren’t afraid that it would hurt pulling the tape off but the story behind it.

After the tape was ripped off a big scar was displayed on your shoulder, "it‘s from the car crash" you said, pain shooting through the healed wound. It wasn‘t an injury pain rather the type of phantom pain - suddenly you were back in the car.

"It‘s a constant reminder of what had happened - something that‘s my fault" you admitted, fighting the tears, "I started to cover it up but make up didn‘t work, so the physio at Ajax taped it. And since that day, I do it all the time"

Leah‘s heart broke at the vulnerability she was seeing, your posture seemingly weak and exposed.

"Is this okay?" Her pointer finger traced over the scar..

"Yeah"

..not in a way that made you uncomfortable but in a way that made you feel like you didn’t have to be ashamed of it.

"What about this?" for a moment you didn‘t feel her touch at all before she pressed featherlight kisses over your scar.

"yes"

Tears were streaming down your face, all of your walls broken down now, Leah made you feel perfect the way you are - because you are.

"I‘m proud of you"

Everything came crashing down, a sob escaped your throat and within a second, you were in your girlfriends arms, crying into her shoulder. The tears that you had not allowed to shed in previous years, fell all at once now.

The England captain hugged you through it all, letting you cry as long as you needed - she wouldn‘t go anywhere.

She had promised your brother to do everything in her power to be the best person you deserve and that‘s what she did, does and will do.

She kept her promise and you did too.

Arsenal was always half but never whole, Leah‘s begun to feel like home.

[bigboysfalldeep]

Time for a change - Male Body Suit

My life was kind of boring.

Working 9 to 5 every single day of the week, while being exhausted and restless on the weekends. I had basically no time for myself, and all I could think of was how much I needed a fresh start in life.

I talked to a friend online, and he told me about the body-suit serum. It would turn anyone into a body-suit, to take over their life.

He assured me it would work perfectly, and I had nothing to lose.

A few days later, I received the kit, including the serum, a few syringes and some sort of inhaler.

He said there are three steps to obtain the body suit.

1st: the injection, it will flatten the subject and create the suit.

2nd: the fitting, putting on the suit like a usual neoprene suit.

3rd: the inhaler, once you inhale the spray, the suit will be complete.

It seemed way to complicated to be false.

But there was still one question left; who did I want to be?

i was lazily skipping through TV channels when I ended up hooked to a football game.

That's when I saw him, Enzo Fernandez.

He was everything I desired in a man; a body of a god, so much money and most importantly, the exciting life of an athlete. I loved latinos so much, and was envious of his effortless beauty.

Every fiber of my body ached to be him, and I spent every waking moment fantasizing about it.

It took me two months to come up with decent plan.

I saved all the money I could, quit my job right before traveling to argentina.

One night, during an official friendly match between argentina and france, I disguised myself as a random worker, no body asked any questions even though I could barely communicate with anyone.

I watched the whole match, my mouth watering anytime I saw Enzo, my future body.

I felt my dick press against my jeans, my mind was in a haze, all I could think of was becoming him.

But I needed to focus, and not let this desire overwhelm me.

I stood inside the tunnel, as the argentina players walked passed me. One by one, wearing their sweat-soaked jerseys, shorts, socks and boots. They were so hot. But I waited for the special one.

I didn't know what I did to be that lucky, but Enzo was one of the last players to show up.

I swallowed hard, feeling the syringe in the palm of my hands, hidden inside my jacket.

"E-e-enzo," I stuttered, my throat tightening quickly.

He turned his head, raising an eyebrow, when he noticed I was holding a picture of him in my other hand.

"Quieres un autógrafo?" He smiled, pointing toward the picture.

I nodded, as he came closer. Quickly, I looked to the left, then to the right, no one in sight.

I was standing there for a reason, a blind spot, no cameras, and very close to a utility room, basically just behind me.

Enzo looked down, and before he knew what was happening, I injected him with the serum.

My heart pounded so hard in my chest, my muscles were trembling. If it didn't work, I would just get sued and end up in prison.

He let out a soft whimper, his eyes rolled back as he slumbed forward into my awaiting arms.

My body was moving on his own; I steadied him and pulled him into the utility room, locking it behind me. There was barely enough room for two people, let alone one unconscious footballer and a nervous mess.

I sat down and held him in my arms. His breathing was shallow, steady, as I ran a hand down his chest, feeling his firm muscles beneath the damp jersey.

It felt so good. Heat was radiating through the shirt, his muscles reacted to my touch and his scent, the musky, earthy smell of a man running around for 90 minutes, drenched in sweat and exhaustion filled the air.

His face was serene, yet his eyes were unfocused, his lips parted slightly, with him sighing contentedly from time to time.

I kept stroking him, running my fingers across his chest, his arms, and even lower, feeling his member through his tight shorts. Damn he was big.

My breath hitched in my throat as I felt him firmly.

That’s when the second stage of the process kicked in.

His body deflated, more and more until his tight clothes slipped from his skin. It looked weird, but the serum really was working.

It took me a second to take the next necessary step: putting him on.

It felt like a neoprene suit, like a diving suit, and I didn't hesitate any longer.

I put him on, his skin was tight, damp, yet a thrill coursed through me.

It was an ill fitting suit, tight suit, so tight, firm and uncomfortable.

I was shaking when I grabbed the inhaler, and at the count of three, I took a deep breath.

It left a sour taste in my mouth, my throat, but the effect was immediate.

My mind spun, my body quaked and I was barely able to steady myself against the wall.

Subconciously, I felt my chest, the skin tightened around my muscles, all of me was moving smoothly. Still, my insides were burning, my vision blurry and I let out a low groan.

Then, it all stopped.

It took me a moment to catch my breath, and my eyes fluttered.

I ran a hand across my skin, and I felt my muscles tense under my touch. I looked down, and was surprised.

I had abs, a toned chest, thighs and a huge throbbing cock.

"What the fuck happened?" I moaned, but it wasn't my voice- it was Enzo's.

In a hurry, I looked for my phone, unlocked it and turned on the camera. There I was, the beautiful Enzo Fernandez.

"Damn, it actually worked," I growled, running a hand through my damp, messy hair before I caressed my cheek and ran two fingers along my jawline. "Fuck."

His beautiful eyes, still slightly glazed over, looked back at me.

"Is this really me?" I said, and again, hearing his beautiful voice.

I instinctevly grew hard, and grabbed myself firmly, trying to prevent me from nutting right there, barely holding it in.

I closed my eyes, this had to be a dream, and I pinched myself. When I opened my eyes, I looked down and saw the toned body I had now.

Unable to process it fully, I ran a hand across my chest, along my arms, my thighs and back to my cock.

This was me, the new me.

I took several deep breaths, inahling something else; my new, musky scent. I lifted my arm, and buried my nose in my armpit, taking a deep sniff.

"Oh my god," I exhaled, the scent intoxicating my mind. "Fucking good."

I was unable to stop myself from leaking now, as I took another sniff.

My eyes rolled back quickly as I let out a rough, husky grunt.

That’s when I heard voices outside the room, people were looking for Enzo- for me.

I rummaged through the discarded pile of clothes on the ground, and put on the damp jersey, shorts, socks and lastly, the boots.

The jersey's sticky, damp fabric clung to my skin, and it made my breath hitch again. I could see my taut muscles through the wet fabric, nothing left to the imagination.

The shorts were even tighter, accentuating my big thighs, and the bulge at the front.

My hands brushed over it, and I pressed my palm against my length, eliciting another low moan from my throat. Then I felt my thick ass through the shorts.

"So tight," I growled, licking my lips.

I pulled up the socks to my knees, and put on the boots. So, so good.

I leaned against the wall, relishing in that moment, taking so many deep breaths.

The smell got even more intense, but I had to focus for now.

I pushed my old clothes aside and stepped outside. This body was strong, all the muscles moved just the way I wanted. I ran a hand through my tousled hair and across my firm chest, when some guy spotted me.

"Enzo, ahí estás." He said, approaching me with a shy smile.

At first I didn't know how to react, my spanish sucked, but some how, I had no issue understanding him like it was english.

"We were looking for you!" He said, placing a hand on my shoulder, leading me toward the locker room.

"Sorry, got hold up by a fan." I smiled, but hearing my new voice made me so heart, and I felt my cock straining my shorts. There was no hiding my erection, but nobody seemed to care much.

"Okay, okay." The guy waved it off, "The other's are already in the showers. We need to be in the bus in 20 minutes. Can you handle that?"

He looked at me, and I nodded.

"Sure, no problem." I said, confused when I learned to speak perfect spanish, but I didn't care.

We were right in front of the locker room, and I heard the other players snickering inside.

i opened the door and stepped inside, hit by the smell of a dozen, sweaty men.

I held back a low moan, as I felt myself leaking again. This was simply overwhelming. A few others were getting changed, and they spotted me, patting me on my shoulder, my tummy and my ass. Damn that felt good.

I now stood in front of the mirror, and looked at my reflection. Damn, I was hot.

I ran fingers along my arms, feeling my biceps flex firmly. Those beautiful tattoos, those firm muscles, felt so good.

The soccer gear fitted my body perfectly. The fabric, even damp with my own sweat, flowed along my firm muscles, accentuating my athletic frame.

My shorts were tight, yet extremely comfortable. The enormous bulge inside them was undeniable, and looked so good.

I lfited my arms, flexing at myself, and subtly, I took another deep sniff of my armpit.

The soaked jersey intensified my own scent, and I bit ny lip, trying to hold back several quiet moans.

Instead, a low growl escaped my lips, rumbling deep within my throat.

"So good," I said, stroking my chest, my tummy and even lower, feeling my tenting dick.

Another guy approached me, Julian was his name. He was in his boxers, showing off his beautiful body, and I couldn't help myself but drink in the sight of him.

"Good job out there," he giggled, patting my ass through my shorts.

"It was so good." I licked my lips at the sight of this beautiful man, taking in his scent as well.

His eyes roamed over my upper body, and he noticed my nipples piercing through the damp jersey.

"Don't look at yourself to much, cabrón." He teased, pinching my sensitive nipples. "The Coach will be pissed, when you are late, again."

I raised an eyebrow.

"He should be lucky we play for him, that fool." I smirked, and he mirrored me instantly.

"Ecaxtly, but still, don't be late." He tilted his head playfully and I nudged him with my elbow.

"Okay, bro."

Julian stepped into the showers and I took another, long look at my reflection.

I ran a hand down my chest, feeling the warmth of my body through the jersey.

My hand landed on my twitching cock, and I fondled me for a few moments. This felt so good; the clothes clinging to my skin, the scent of myself, and all the others mingling in the air and the excitement of wearing this professional athletes skin.

I took my clothes off, inhaling the scent of my jersey, before stepping into the showers as well.

Amidst the sound of my squadmates snickering, laughing and speaking to one another, I enjoyed all of it.

The feeling of my new body, the firm muscles, the smooth skin, the sound of my own muffled moans- fucking good.

This was the first time I came inside this new body. No one noticed, and what if they did? I didn't care.

Again and again, I shot a load into the shower, getting lost in the moment.

That was a fantastic start.

From that day on, I was Enzo Fernandez.

I went to training, got used to it all pretty quickly, and adjusted to this excititing life.

I wore his shorts every day at home, and used any given opportunity to jerk off. This body was a fine-tuned machine. And even though it took work to maintain it, it was way better than my old life.

[adascore]

The Awarded Silence

pairings: alexia putellas x lyonnais!reader / lucy bronze x lyonnais!reader / mary earps x lyonnais!reader / sarina wiegman x lyonnais!reader + mapi and ingrid cameos!

warnings: very awkward. angst. swearing.

author's note: lucy meddling with her two captains... nothing good can come of that, can it? hope you all enjoy this third part! also I’m aware the gif is not the right award ceremony, but couldn’t find a better gif.

part 1 | part 2 | masterlist

•••••••

With the end of a season also came the prestigious award shows, something both Y/N and Alexia were all too familiar with. Although it was different this time around; it would be the first time they would actually go up against each other in the big categories.

It was clear to everyone who would be walking away with each one of them. Not only had Y/N walked away with both the European Championship and the Champions League title, she'd been named the MVP of both those tournaments. Some of the media were trying to hype it up as another competition between them, but even Alexia was aware she had no chance of walking away with anything as long as Y/N was nominated for it as well.

First one up had been the UEFA Women's Player of the Year, which Y/N had taken home, alongside Sarina who had won for Women's Coach of the Year.

That was followed up by the Ballon d'Or. It was a big deal as they were the clear frontrunners, and whoever won would become the first player to win the accolade for a second time. Again, Y/N made history and had accepted the gold award. Alexia hadn't gone to the ceremony, citing illness as the reason why.

The England captain had been upset by her absence, she hadn't seen nor spoken with Alexia in months and had hoped the ceremony in France would have been an opportunity to catch up. She'd smiled when the midfielder sent her a congratulatory message, along with a shout-out on her Instagram story- stating how she was deserving of the award.

It would take a few more months before they'd see each other, at ‘The Best FIFA Football Awards' in Paris. Along with being nominated for Best Women's Player, they would both be featured in the Women's World 11.

The first interaction came when they were hastily put next to each other as they received their trophies. As the cameras clicked, Y/N and Alexia exchanged smiles that masked the tension between them.

''I think it would be difficult for anyone to beat this team.'' Lucy grinned, speaking into the microphone that was attached to her cheek.

The women received another applause and made their way off the stage, handing over their trophies that would be handed back to them at the end of the ceremony.

A few winners later, Kylian took the stage to present ‘The Best FIFA Women's Player' award. They showed a pleasant montage of Alexia, Y/N and Alex- a compilation of their season's highlights.

Y/N felt a mix of excitement and nervousness. She knew the PSG player would call out her name, but you never knew if they wanted to stir up some controversy.

The England captain was sat on the first row, meanwhile some of her teammates and fellow female players were scattered in the other rows. Alex sat right behind her, while Alexia sat on the other side of the room with her Barcelona teammates.

The room hushed as Kylian unfolded the envelope. ''And the Best FIFA Women's Player is… Y/N Y/L.''

Applause erupted, and Y/N nervously got up from her seat. On the pitch, the striker was confident, but making speeches in front of a full room filled with people in power and fellow players, was not something she had gotten used to.

The Brit turned around and reached her hand out for Alex to take, a silent sign of respect for the season the American had had. She would have done the same if Alexia had been seated there, but walking to the other side of the room would have taken too much time.

Y/N carefully walked up the stairs, trying not to fall as she was wearing heels. Kylian noticed, and made his way over to offer his arm to her. She smiled, and accepted, holding onto the striker's arm.

He congratulated her, pressing three celebratory kisses on her cheek. ''Félicitations, Championne.'' (''Congratulations, Champion.'') Kylian said.

''Merci.'' (''Thank you.'') Y/N grinned, and she took her place at the microphone.

''Uh, thank you so much to all the people that voted. It's a big compliment to have your fellow players and coaches vote for you, so thank you so much.'' She started off, her voice a bit shaky as her eyes darted around the room.

''I, also, quickly want to acknowledge Alex and Alexia. It's an honour to be nominated alongside you, and I want to thank you for all the contributions you have made so far and for the great football we get to see from you. Thank you.'' Y/N glanced at both of them, giving them a nod as the crowd applauded them.

The camera panned to both women. The American striker mouthed a ''Thank you'' to the younger player, once teammates at Lyon. Alexia clapped, but maintained a composed facade.

She had also clapped when the Brit's name was announced, concealing any type of disappointment she felt. While she had anticipated the outcome, the sight of Y/N claiming the award instead of her was something hard to swallow- in the same way it had been hard to watch her rival lift the Champions League trophy the previous year.

Her applause was genuine, and deep inside she knew that Y/N deserved it more than her, but Alexia would never admit that out loud. As the striker continued her speech, the midfielder struggled with being happy for her colleague, while dealing with her own unspoken desire for recognition.

Lucy, seated beside Alexia, offered her a knowing smile. The Barcelona defender had seen it from close by, how everything was a competition for them. She'd noticed it at her new club, where the lost finals against Lyon served as reminders for the team to do better, and to not let that happen again. She'd noticed it in her England teammate, and how tense she had been before the friendly against Spain.

On the other side sat Mapi, concerned over how her friend was handling it. ''It's okay, Ale.'' She whispered in their native language.

''I know, it's just an award.'' Alexia replied, not taking her eyes off Y/N.

The Spanish defender dropped it, giving Ingrid a look before focusing on the winner as well.

''… cause I couldn't have done it without them. Uh, yeah, congratulations to all the other winners as well. Thank you.'' Y/N concluded.

The audience applauded one last time, and she got off the stage. She hid her face in embarrassment as Mary whistled loudly, feeling hot as her friend hyped her up.

After was seemed like forever, the ceremony was done.

Most attendees got up from their seats, but didn't leave the main hall as they walked over to catch up with people they knew or to get to know other people.

Y/N got up after about a minute, deciding to go talk to Christiane and Wendie, her Lyon teammates. However, the universe or someone called Lucy Bronze had better ideas.

''Hey, Captain.'' She heard the defender greeting her.

As the striker turned around, she was met with a surprise. There stood Lucy, accompanied by none other than Alexia Putellas. The Brit wore a smile, her eyes gleaming with mischief.

''Hi, Bronzey.'' Y/N responded, slightly caught off guard.

The English internationals shared a hug, Lucy whispering a congratulations in her ear. ''Thanks, you too.''

As the two parted, Y/N's eyes fell on an awkwardly standing Alexia.

''Y/N, meet Alexia. Alexia, this is Y/N.'' Lucy said, her eyes darting between the pair.

The two captains exchanged an uneasy glance. ''Uh, yeah, we know each other, Luce.'' The striker stated, feeling very uncomfortable with the situation.

Lucy chuckled, completely unfazed by the discomfort she had purposely created. ''Oh, I know. It's just that fans online were saying that they wanted me to have you guys become friends, so I'm just keeping my promise to them.''

Y/N and Alexia forcibly grinned at the admission, both aware of what people said about them on social media. The latter cleared her throat. ''Uh, congratulations again. You really deserve it.''

The Lyon player nodded, a somewhat more genuine smile appearing. ''Thanks, I appreciate. You as well, with the, uh, World 11.''

''Thank you.''

Another pause hung in the air, the atmosphere thick with awkwardness. It was as if their shared teammate had conspired to make this encounter as uncomfortable as possible.

''Oh, there's Sarina, excuse me, ladies.'' Lucy swiftly escaped, using their Dutch coach as part of her scheme.

That left the players facing each other. The tension was uncomfortable, and neither seemed eager to break the silence that had settled between them.

After a moment, Y/N was the first to give in. ''So, how is your knee doing?'' She asked, noticing the Spaniard was no longer holding onto her crutches.

Alexia's eyes briefly flickered towards Lucy, who was signing with her hands to keep going. ''Uh, good. Yeah, if everything goes to plan, I should be ready by the end of the season.'' She replied, a small smile present.

''So… World Cup ready then?''

The Catalan shifted on her feet at the mention of the tournament. ''That's delicate right now.''

''Oh, how, uh, is that situation going at the moment?'' Y/N had momentarily forgotten about the mutiny going on in the Spanish national team. She knew Alexia supported the girls that had made themselves unavailable, but they'd never had any conversations about it.

Alexia shrugged her shoulders. ''It's being worked on, it's… a lot.'' From the way she was speaking, her colleague could sense it wasn't a topic the midfielder wanted to happily chat about.

''I understand. I just want to say that a lot of people are behind you guys, and want to see change happen,'' Y/N softly spoke, ''me included.''

''Thank you.'' Alexia sounded genuinely grateful for her words.

Y/N has been a huge advocate for women's football ever since she became a professional player, so her acknowledging the Las 15's stance meant more to Alexia than she could express.

''Sorry, could I get a picture of you two?'' One of the official FIFA photographers interjected, pointing at the two of them.

The pair shared a look, seemingly asking without words if the other was okay with it. They nodded at each other, and hesitantly put their hands on one another's back, posing for the camera.

''Thank you.'' The man thanked them, walking over to another group of players.

''It was nice talking to you. I'm, uh, gonna see what my teammates are up to.'' Y/N politely excused herself. The conversation was turning out more bearable than how it started, but she still wanted nothing more than to leave.

''Same. Um, good luck with your matches, and maybe we see each other in the semifinals?'' Alexia hinted at a potential Champions League clash.

The Lyon striker chuckled. ''We'll see, Putellas. Have a nice night.''

As Y/N made her way to her teammates, Alexia watched her departure with mixed emotions. Yes, she was happy that they'd had a conversation. But, it was frustrating that there still seemed to be a wall between them, and a big one at that.

What was it that always held them back from truly opening up to one another?

''You know she's going to kill you once she's finished with that conversation, right?'' Mary said to her fellow Lioness, subtly taking a glimpse at Alexia and Y/N.

Lucy smirked, her eyes barely leaving her two captains. ''Who? Y/N or Alexia?'' She laughed.

''Both.'' Sarina and Mary chorused, laughing now as well.

''Nah, they'll have to work together for that. Never gonna happen.'' She continued joking.

The England coach shook her head. ''Why are you doing this again?''

''Because I wanna have fun, and although I am happy with my little trophy, this show is super boring. Just want to spice things up,'' Lucy explained, ''besides, fans will love it. The Queens of football talking together. La Reina and La Reine.''

Sarina and Mary exchanged skeptical glances, unsure of how either players would react. ''I'm not so sure Y/N will appreciate your idea of fun.'' Mary commented.

''Oh, what could go wrong?'' The defender genuinely did not see the problem. ''See, they're even taking a picture together.'' Lucy pointed out, seeing the pair in front of the photographer.

After the picture, Y/N gracefully excused herself and began walking towards where Lucy, Mary, and Sarina were standing. She joined the trio with a forced smile, attempting to suppress any visible signs of annoyance.

''Nice reunion there?'' Sarina tried to lighten her captain up, noticing her gloomy expression.

''We talked.'' She answered. It wasn't a proper response, more like a factual statement.

Y/N wasn't sparing Lucy a glance, the defender, however, remained unfazed. ''That's nice.''

''Congrats, by the way, darling. No one deserves this more than you.'' Mary tried to deflect, not a fan of the tension. Sarina smiled at the reminder of all the awards her team collected. ''Yeah, congratulations.''

''Thank you, you too, Mearps. You almost made me cry with your speech. Sarina, you didn't make me cry, but yours was really nice as well.'' She turned to her coach, managing to still make a teasing comment.

Sarina laughed. ''Well, thank you.''

''Uh, I'm gonna say hi to my, uh, other teammates.'' Y/N nodded her head towards where Wendie and Christiane were standing with some of the Lyon staff.

She then glanced at Lucy. ''Or you want to set that up for me as well?'' She sarcastically chuckled.

''Hey, come on. I thought you guys were friends now.'' Lucy said, a lame attempt at defending herself.

''Who said that?'' Y/N frowned.

''Jill.'' The defender retorted.

''What a source,'' the captain scoffed, ''we're not friends, and I don't need you to make us friends.''

''How bad was that conversation that you're this pissed at me?'' Lucy asked, not expecting her friend to be this irritated over her actions.

''Just don't do that ever again. It was fucking embarrassing.'' With that, she made her way over to her Lyon teammates.

Mary and Sarina slowly glanced back to Lucy, whose smirk had been practically smacked off of her face.''What could go wrong, aye, Bronzey?''

On the other side of the room, Alexia carefully walked over to Mapi and Ingrid after Y/N excused herself from the conversation.

''You look like you need alcohol.'' The Spanish defender noted, taking in her friend's expression.

Alexia sighed, smoothing her hair down. ''Neither of us enjoyed that.''

''Lucia really did you dirty there.'' Mapi responded, glancing to where her teammate was speaking with the England camp.

Ingrid offered a sympathetic smile. ''I think she had good intentions, she meant it well.'' She chimed in.

The Barcelona captain nodded. ''I know, but it was so awkward.'' Alexia grimaced, cringing at the reminder of how the two football stars had just uneasily stood in front of one another.

''You'll be fine,'' Mapi caressed her back, ''one day you'll be able to laugh about this, trust me.''

Alexia gave her an unimpressed look. ''I'd rather not.''

The defender glanced at her girlfriend. ''So oblivious.'' She whispered to Ingrid.

''What was that?''

''Nothing.''

[jflemings]

— red stars

pairing: caroline harvey x woso!reader

synopsis: you send yourself to the olympics with a perfect game under your belt, and caroline is there to witness it.

warnings: none!

a/n: yall….. i have been sucked in 🌝 i also realised after i finished writing that nwsl players don’t give away their jerseys, so just pretend they do for the sake of the fic.

୧ ‧₊˚ 🎰 ⋅ ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

caroline keeps her hands tucked in her pockets as she walks into the stadium. she’s careful not to bump into anybody as she makes her way to the friends and family section, keeping her hat securely on her head. she shares polite smiles with the other families and is quick to find her seat, double checking the number before sitting down and checking her phone.

she attempts to work the dead feeling out of her legs by massaging her thighs through her jeans. the almost three hour drive from madison to bridgeview really took it out of her, and the coffee that she’d skulled before coming into the stadium hadn’t kicked in yet.

she opens up her conversation with you to send you a text letting you know that she’s sat in her seat, and that she couldn’t wait to see you play. knowing that you weren’t going to respond anytime soon, she switched apps and scrolled through instagram instead.

part of her felt a little out of place. she’d decided to come alone to support you before you jetted off to france for the olympics, but now she kind of wished she had taken laila up on her offer to come. it wasn’t often that she actually got to come to your games, especially now that she had gained a bit of a fanbase, so she hadn’t had the opportunity to meet any of your teammates families or friends. it was weird being surrounded by people who saw eachother semi-regularly and she felt kind of awkward once she realised that she was the only one not caught up in a conversation.

she’s in her own little world until both teams walk out of the tunnel. the crowd cheers at the sight and she stands to clap along with them.

spotting you is relatively easy, the number fourteen on your back and your last name in bold block letter’s immediately drawing her attention. she catches your eye as you line up, grinning and waving to you when she sees you watching her with a twinkle.

after the anthem she winks and sits back down, watching you and your teammates intently as you also get to your positions. her eyes stay trained on you on the wing, the determined look on your face only making her more excited.

the first half escalates quickly with a player from the opposition earning a yellow fifteen minutes in. it sets the tone for the game: fast paced and a little aggressive.

it’s a perfect pass and mallory’s even more perfect timing that bags you an assist at the twenty minute mark. your teammate enthusiastically high-fives you and wraps an arm around you before the two of you move back into position, and kk can tell that a fire has been lit inside of you.

the half continues in chicago’s favour. the other team have opportunities but due to alyssa’s safe hands, none of them get past her. a corner kick in their favour almost breaks the deadlock and for a moment you think they’re going to score, but a red stars defender clears it and keeps the goal safe, allowing you to run back up your half of the pitch.

your first goal happens right before half time. you’re running parallel to mallory, keeping up with her pace and keeping an eye on where she’s going to pass, before she chips it to you. you slot it in past the goal keeper’s finger’s and immediately jump in celebration, pointing to the crowd of fans as your teammates train you joyfully.

the second half is when the other team decide to try to slow you down. you go down due to a mistimed tackle in the penalty box, clutching your ankle as you get on your knees; you stand slowly and shake the adrenaline out just as the ref awards a penalty kick to the red stars.

from the stands, kk holds her breath. she knows how much this penalty is going to mean to you after missing a crucial one in the world cup last year. you had called her after the game crying, saying how you should’ve made the shot and how it was stupid that you missed it when you spent hours upon hours practicing.

you were a perfectionist at heart, and knowing that you hadn’t perfectly executed the one thing you’d been trying so hard to get right absolutely broke her heart.

she bites her nails as she sees you take the ball off the ref.

you place the ball on the ground, before taking a deep breath and stepping back to take the kick. you’ve done this a million times before. you’ve trained yourself for this, on this very pitch, a million times before.

you know you want to go to the olympics with the perfect penalty under your belt.

you know that you’re not going to miss this shot.

one, two deep breaths. you pick your position, you lock in, and you pull back. you swing your leg with precision and release the breath you were holding as the ball gets off the ground.

the keeper goes right.

you’ve aimed left.

it’s the perfect shot, and the perfect finish.

the stands erupt. a sea of red and blue overtakes your vision as you take off running again, your yelling teammates not far behind. as you pass the section caroline’s in you turn your back and point to the fourteen, putting it proudly on display.

the game ends with a clean sheet, a brace and assist, and a perfect send off to your first olympics.

the adrenaline is still pumping through you as you make your rounds, clapping and waving to fans, signing posters and jerseys and taking as many photos as you can.

mallory throws an arm around your shoulders “look at you, little superstar” she praises as she punches your cheeks playfully “a brace and an assist! that giddy energy from this week did you a bit of good, i see”

you nod “i guess” you shrug, fighting the urge to smile as you subtly look towards the stands. mallory stops the both of you and faces you so that her back is to the crowd.

“you’re coming out with us, right? we were going to anyway but now we’ve really got something to celebrate” she says with a smile on her face.

you play with the hem of your jersey and shrug again, looking over her shoulder. trying to suppress the smile beginning to grow on your face turns out to be useless when you see kk waiting for you. her hands are tucked into the pockets of her soft shorts as she makes sure she’s out of the way for other friends and family members making their way out of the stands; she smiles when you catch her eye.

“i’ve actually already got plans” you say to your teammate whilst keeping your eyes on your girlfriend. you look to mallory “next time though, i promise”

she cocks a brow and looks in the direction your eyes have been glued to, smiling when she sees caroline. she nods her head and waves before turning back to you “i see” she draws out, a smirk playing on her lips.

a blush starts to bloom across your cheeks “yeah” you bite the inside of your lip. before you can say anything else, or even begin to walk away, a hand is giving you a firm slap on your shoulder. you holt forward out of surprise just as alyssa comes to stand next to you.

“are you coming out?” she asks

mallory jumps in before you can say anything “she’s got plans” she says teasingly, nodding her head back in the direction of your ever so patient girlfriend “caroline’s come to visit”

alyssa half smiles “right” she says whilst nodding “well, tell her we say hi”

“yes, i will” you half groan before shaking their hands off “as much as i love you guys, i’m not going to leave her standing there by herself any longer”

alyssa and mallory wave you off with sly smiles and teasing grins before they meet up with their own friends and family, you and caroline quickly becoming a second thought.

you make your way over to kk, cautious of the eyes that you know are trailing your figure. it’s remarkable, really, that no one has recognised her or questioned why she’s here. the two of you have managed to keep your year and a half relationship a secret from the mass of detective level fans and the media and you were hoping that it was going to stay that way after this weekend.

it’s certainly not the first time she’s made the drive from her college to your club’s home stadium, but it is the first time since she gained rapid popularity from tiktok.

she untucks her hands from her pockets and folds them behind her back, smiling shyly as you approach.

“hey” you say shyly under her gaze. you have to resist the urge to fling your arms around her neck in a bear hug “was the game everything you hoped it would be?”

“and more” she says as she leans down slightly “my olympian”

you roll your eyes “says you, silver medalist”

caroline blushes and scratches her nose to hide the blush creeping up her cheeks. “yeah, well, now it’s your turn”

“gold, baby. i’m bringing home gold”

she’s about to respond when a young girl shyly approaches the two of you. she’s dressed in this season’s home jersey with her hair in pigtails, a sign saying ‘I WANT TO BE LIKE Y/N WHEN I GROW UP’ in blue and red letters. her mum stands behind her, slowly pushing the girl towards you.

“go on” the mother whispers in her daughter’s ear.

the young girl’s brunette pony tail sways as she looks between her mother and you, her lip between her teeth. “excuse me y/n?” she says quietly, her eyes quickly darting between you and your girlfriend “can i please get a photo?”

you smile wide “of course you can!” you crouch down to her level “what’s your name?”

“faye” she says shyly.

“i like your sign faye. did your mum help you make it?”

she nods “she helped me put the glitter on, but i wrote it all by myself!”

kk steps aside and makes sure she’s fully out of the frame as the mother pulls out her phone. you make sure to have the biggest, most genuine smile plastered on your face as you pose with the young girl. in your peripheral vision you can see kk smiling just as big at the two of you, making your heart flutter.

after the photos are taken you let her shoulder go but stay at her level, making sure to look her in the eye “can i give you my jersey?” you ask with a smile.

a sunshine smile overtakes her face as she nods quickly. taking the hem of your shirt in your hands, you quickly pull it over your head and turn it the right way out before flattening it on your knee.

“do you have a pen?” you ask her mum.

“here” she says as she pulls one out of her back pocket “thought we’d bring one today, just incase”

“good thinking” kk says with a smile.

you sign the jersey and the poster easily, handing them both back to her “thank you both for coming! i hope you enjoyed the game”

“we did!” faye says excitedly “mum says we can come to more games next season!”

“well then, i’ll see you back here soon!”

faye and her mum bid you and caroline goodbye. you can’t take your eyes off of the young girl and the way she excitedly raves about her interaction with you, her pigtails swishing about as she hands the sign to her mother. you see her clutch your jersey to her chest and smile.

“i can’t believe i have that kind of an impact on young girls” you say breezily “i didn’t have many female athletes to latch onto growing up so to be that for young people is just amazing”

caroline places a hand on your bare shoulder, pulling you into her “i think you underestimate how good of a player and role model you actually are” she says lowly to you “i’m so lucky to know you”

you can’t help but roll your eyes as you begin to lead her towards the tunnel and back to the changerooms to get your stuff “i’m so lucky to know you” you pointedly say. you wrap an arm around kk’s waist once the two of you are far enough in the tunnel “your unwavering support is something i don’t take for granted. i hope you know that”

“we support eachother, babe. it’s just how this works” she mumbles against your temple as she places her lips onto your warm skin “plus y’know, seeing you with my birthdate on your back isn’t too bad either”

you still slightly and blush at being caught out. you didn’t think she’d really taken any notice of the number fourteen you wear, much less connect that it was because of her.

“oh yeah. don’t think that got past me” she says cockily, pulling you out of your rooted place “i knew as soon as you moved to the red stars that you did it for me, and i was just waiting for you to admit it”

“i didn’t think you clocked that” you mumble

“yeah, and i’m proud of it everyday”

[meazalykov]

invisible string theory

lena oberdorf x uswnt!lyon!reader

part one - part two - part three

summary: you're with her now, but you've known of her for longer than that.

warnings: long chapter since I have to split this up into three parts, changing things that happened irl just a tiny bit for the plot of this, google translated language.

the pathway of your career was never simple, or original. 

growing up in the states, you participated in many youth programs. sacrificing a chance at a normal childhood, you took the chance to fulfill your 5-year-old self's dream. 

before you know it, you’d grow up to be the best teenager in the country– in terms of soccer. 

just before going into high-school, you were called up for the usynt for the first time. your parents wanted to see you happy, so you were sent into homeschooling. 

it wasn’t easy leaving public-school. you barely had time for your non-soccer playing friends and eventually– you seemed to forget about them. your friends and teammates on your club and national teams were your new priority. 

breaking records on the national level, it seemed like the youth team was too easy for you. 

and then 2018 came along, when you were 16 years ol–  

well, not yet. just a day before your 16th birthday, in January 2018, you were having your debut on the uswnt. 

against denmark, you were thrown into the game in the 50th minute, not long after halftime. being an attacking midfielder, you were expected to contribute to any attack or opportunity given for you. 

playing with the current world champions intimidated you. your new mentor, christen press, noticed this when your leg and foot tapped against the grass as the both of you waited to get subbed in. 

“hey! you gotta relax.” christen whispers over the crowd, her tone stricter than usual which causes your leg to stop tapping.

a goal came from mallory pugh that same second, so you were distracted for a few seconds celebrating. 

luckily, this gave you enough time to take deep breaths.. something your sports therapist recommended for situations like this. 

“i will, sorry.” you quickly spoke after, moving your tongue to press on the inside of your cheek. you didn’t notice how nervous you could’ve looked from the outside. 

“you don’t need to apologize, you’ll do great i promise!” she patted your upper back a few times before the ref blew the whistle for the subs. 

after the whistle blew in the 93rd minute, you breathed a huge sigh of relief. most of your older teammates ran to your side to congratulate your contributions to the 5-1 win. 

1 goal and one assist on your senior team debut didn’t happen to players everyday, especially to newly 16 year olds.  

a year later, after 16 more caps, happy tears ran out of your eyes when your coach, jill, called you. 

this wasn’t too long after you made your professional club debut for sky blue fc, or what is now referred to as gotham fc. jill let you know that you were going to the world cup!

now being 17 years old, you were the youngest person on the uswnt roster to play in the women's world cup ever. 

being referred to as “baby blue” by the rest of the team, due to your age and the club you play for, they all made an effort to make sure that you had the best experience for your first world cup. 

you attached yourself to christen, megan, alex and tobin when it came down to needing mentors to guide you in france– and your closest friends mallory, tierna, and rose. 

in the football world, you’re treated like an adult. something you struggled with. 

your parents, siblings, and other relatives came to france to support you on your journey– but due to the everyday training (twice a day), media days, strict meal plans, and mental stress before the tournament– you couldn’t see them at all. 

thankfully, they were able to see you along with the rest of the world during the group stages. 

against thailand, you scored a goal with three assists after you were substituted in the 60th minute. the 13-0 win gave you a rush that would last throughout the entire tournament.

you didn’t play against chile, or sweden. sitting on the bench and observing your team was enough for you though– they’ll call you whenever they need you. 

one moment throughout the tournament, there was a four day break between the group stages and the round of 16. 

adidas, the brand you chose to sign for, wanted to do a photoshoot with many internationals who signed their brand. the world cup is the only chance they’ll be able to do this collaboration– and with fifa's approval– over 20 players from different countries are there in a big conference room, ready to get their picture taken. 

standing in the red uswnt kit, you felt intimidated– unaware that you could’ve been the most intimidating. 

unfortunately for you, lindsey and you were the only americans at this photoshoot. you attached yourself to the blonde before she was pulled away by staff. this left you alone sitting on a random chair– at a random table. 

(i know giulia gwinn is signed for nike, but pretend she is signed to adidas for the plot)

“um– hey?” a girl your age– or maybe a bit older– with blonde hair stands in front of you with a confused, yet amused, expression. 

your eyebrows knit together as you respond back with a smile, “hi!” 

before the blonde could say anything, you turn your head to see a table card in the middle of the circle table. its labeled under germany so your eyes widened before you quickly stood up from your chair. 

“oh my goodness i’m sorry– i just found a random seat to sit in because i’m bored.” you talk a bit more than necessary, afraid that you did something disrespectful.

“its totally okay– i’ve been wandering around myself– i’m giulia!” she reaches her hand out, her german accent strong. 

you reach your hand out to meet hers, “i’m y/n. i’m with the us team.” 

giulia smiles, “i know– its hard to not notice the current world champs in the room.” 

you smile, your social anxiety fades as you engage in a conversation with the german footballer. 

“so when are you getting your pictures done?” giulia asks, wanting to continue the conversation with you. 

“oh i had my individuals and duo pictures with horan done earlier– i’m just waiting for the big group photo we have to take in–” you check your apple watch, “20 minutes.” 

“oh same!” giulia says, looking down at your apple watch too, seeing that it's 11:40am. 

“congratulations on getting on top of group B, i watched a little bit of the game during my lunch break yesterday!” you compliment as you cross your arms naturally. 

“thank you! it wasn’t easy.” giulia smiles.

“i feel you.” you relate. 

before you could talk to giulia more, another girl jogs up towards the two of you. 

she is wearing the same german kit as giulia, so you know she is her national teammate. she's taller than you, brunette, and you figure that she has short hair, since her hair was tied up in a small bun. 

the brunette looked very cute, but you brushed that thought aside. you have no idea what her name is and you need to put all of your focus on the world cup. 

“Da bist du ja! Ich habe dich gesucht, aber ich sehe, du hast einen neuen Freund gefunden.“ (There you are! I've been looking for you, but I see you've found a new friend.) the brunette nudges giulia’s shoulder, looking at her before looking at you with curiousity. 

“relax! this is y/n.” giulia waves her hand towards you. 

“hey.” is all you say, smiling at the cute girl. 

“hey.” she responds, smiling with the same cheeky smile you had. 

“wer ist das? sie ist süß” (who is that? she is cute) the brunette says to giulia. you didn’t understand german, but you could tell that she was asking a question through the tone of her voice.

giulia rolls her eyes before giggling, 

“this is y/n, like i told you. she plays for the united states.” giulia responds in english, which you’re grateful for. the girl looked you up and down for a few seconds before talking to giulia in german again.

over giulia’s shoulder, just 20 feet behind her, you see horan waving her hand for you to come to her. you look back at the german girls, hating to cut them off from their conversation. 

“sorry girls but i have to go. it was so nice meeting you giulia!” you quickly hug giulia, and she hugs you back tightly before you walk away. 

ten days later-- when jill called for you to warm up in the final against the netherlands, your legs felt like pencil lead that could’ve snapped in half. 

in the 75th minute, the united states were up by 2. however, the euro champions against you had a point to prove. they weren’t going to let themselves lose the world cup without a fight. 

tobin heath got injured during the semi-finals and doctors made it clear that she couldn’t play the full 90 minutes in the final, so jill made the last decision to call you up. 

every commentator on broadcasts, radio stations, and television networks were wondering why jill was putting you– a seventeen year old with no world cup experience– over people like carli lloyd who's on the bench.

you couldn’t make a single mistake on the pitch. your mind repeated that sentence back to you as you warmed up with sprints and stretches on the sidelines. 

five minutes go by and you’re on the pitch. focusing on the ball, you made beautiful passes to the forwards and midfielders around you.

when your eyes were on the ball, it was distracting from the neverending stadium around you. 

blocking out the noise of the crowd and the pressure of the moment, the 83rd minute comes along. krieger pushes the ball away from a dutch forward and launches the ball in the air towards rose lavelle, the girl who scored the second goal moments before. 

rose, being closed in by dutch defenders, passed the ball behind her to kelley o’hara. kelley saw you were free and there was open space between you and her, so she launched the ball towards you. 

this was your chance. usually, you never tried to seek personal glory. however, something changed when that ball hit your ivory colored cleat.

your feet take the ball towards the goal. veenendaal, the dutch goalkeeper, sets herself up in a ready position as she sees her defenders failing to take the ball from you. 

as you race closer to the goal, the crowd gets louder. the orange defenders close in but you dribble around them effortlessly, a skill uswnt fans love seeing from your younger self. 

an oranje defender hit your body from the left side but it was too late. your foot was angled on the left side of the ball, making the outside of your right foot clear to launch a powerful shot at the goal. 

veenendaal dived a second too late, the ball hit the lower corner of the net, going in for the third goal of the world cup final. 

you didn’t take a moment to process your thoughts before you lifted yourself off of the grass and sprinted towards the corner of the pitch, the same corner megan raphinoe celebrated the first goal at an hour before. 

your hands were spread out wide as tears threatened to pour out of your eyes in joy. the look of happiness that you’ve never felt until now. 

“Y/N L/N THE YOUNGEST GOALSCORER IN A WORLD CUP FINAL!!” commentators screamed on television broadcasts as your teammates, both on and off of the pitch, ran to you and squeezed your adrenaline filled body. 

one month later, you’re back home in new york city. the rush of winning the world cup is still fresh– along with your popularity in the community skyrocketing due to your amazing world cup campaign. 

you missed france already-- a little too much. the bond you’ve had with your uswnt teammates there was indescribable. 

the world cup distracted you from your unfortunate situation at gotham fc too. 

you’re an amazing player and the world cup showed the world that, but your coach at gotham seemed to have an agenda against you. 

at first, you didn’t think so. you arrived at gotham six months ago and started for the first few games in the NWSL season, but it seems like the coach forgot about you after. 

the defensive style of the squad is something you didn’t prefer as well. your play style fit well with an attacking style of play, but your coach didn’t want that. 

after being benched for the big game against san diego wave, you had enough. 

your agent and yourself filled a request in to transfer clubs or go on loan. 

luckily for you, many clubs all over the world wanted the best U17 player. 

when lyon came knocking on your door, you were happy to accept a year long loan deal. 

at first, moving across the atlantic scared you. your older sister, whos much older than you, agreed to live with you until you’re eighteen that january, but you’ll be far away. 

however, lyon is the best club in the world. you would never say no simply because you were “a little uncomfortable” with the move. oh well, football comes with uncomfortable events.  

the uncomfortable events paid off well, since you're a starter for the champions league final against wolfsburg.

twenty minutes in, and you nearly had an opportunity to have the first goal of the final.

the ball was at lucy bronze's feet. you were free to accept her pass and did so. before you could pass the ball up to sommer-- Alex popp knocked you from behind and you were on the grass.

you were okay, and you got up fine afterwards. in fact-- you felt like that knock helped your nerves from playing your first champion's league final at the age of 18.

minutes later, sakina had the ball which prompted you to push forward. ingrid engen from wolfsburg kept her eyes on you, since she knows how fast and precise you were with the ball.

sakina tried to pass the ball up to kumagai, but pernille harder takes the ball. luckily, you were able to side tackle the ball from her. she fell, but you were at the ball so no yellow card was needed.

the noise around you were coaches yelling and players shouting at others in many languages. french, german, swedish, dutch, you name it.

its 2020, and there was no crowd due to covid. the empty chairs made it easy for your voice to echo.

you were close to being fluent in french after living in lyon for the last year, and having sakina and selma as your closest friends, so you opted to yell out to your teammates in that language instead of english--where the whole pitch might understand you.

renard had the ball with no wolfsburg player coming at her, so she took her time deciding on who to pass the ball to.

her pass to buchanan was clean, but svenja huth takes the ball from lucy as she runs to the middle.

svenja tries to pass the ball but it goes back to the defender in navy blue, renard.

the tall defender launches the ball at you running towards the right side. cascarino and you swap places as your feet quickly get inside of the box with the ball.

your left foot shoots the ball but the ball hits off of repohl-- wolfsburg's goalkeeper's, foot. the ball bounces towards le sommer, who shot the ball into the goal at the 25th minute.

le sommer high-fived you and hugged you as you both ran back into your positions. all season at lyon, you've had the highest number of assist-- and the third highest amount of goals.

the french club hopes to buy you from gotham, if there is no issue. your contract does say that there is no buy option involved, but they hope to try.

in the 44th minute, everyone was struggling to get their feet onto the ball. you were standing directly in the middle outside of the box when the ball was bounced back to you.

your left foot, your non-dominant one, launches the ball into the goal at a lightening speed. ingrid and alex popp didn't have the chance to stop you before your teammates screamed in celebration.

"when it fell-- it fell kindly for the american international who scores the second goal for lyon." a commentator speaks to the television audience as you ran to hug majri.

before the end of halftime, as you're ready to head back out onto the pitch, you frowned in realization.

after this fun season, you'll head back to the united states with a coach who wants nothing to do with you. you tried to stay optimistic and think about everything after the final is over, but the end of the season is in 45 minutes plus extra time.

"y/n bébé, garde la tête haute, tu as déjà marqué" (y/n baby, keep your head up, you've already scored) cascarino says as she places her hands on your shoulders. you relax into her hands as your head turns to face her stressed facial expression.

"ce n'est pas ça, je ne veux juste pas te quitter après ça" (that's not it, i just don't want to leave you after this) you whisper. your head leans back onto cascarino's head as she sighs.

"garde espoir, Lyon est content de t'avoir ici. Peut-être trouveront-ils un arrangement avec ton club d'origine" (keep hope, Lyon is happy to have you here. Maybe they will find an arrangement with your original club) cascarino whispers before you both jog out to the pitch.

"maybe.." you whisper to yourself after cascarino jogs away from you.

nothing much happened after halftime started, until alex popp scores a header. you weren't too afraid, since lyon are still up by one, but it's anyones game with thirty minutes left.

subs were made in the sixty-first minute for wolfsburg, so you stand beside cascarino to talk to her. as you look ahead at ewa leaving the pitch, you spot a familiar face entering.

the girl with a determined look jog onto the pitch, and you continue to look at her as she scans around the field. your mind itches, you know you've seen this girl somewhere before.

as she turns around with her back from you, you see 5 oberdorf.

again, you have no idea on who she is. you haven't played against wolfsburg until now, so maybe you played against her national team before? you had no idea.

wolfsburg had more possession this time around. you made a few tackles and won a few duals, but the german club was hungry to score an equalizer.

lucy got the ball away from pernille and passed the ball up to you.

you ran with the ball up the field. you dribbled around ingrid and alex popp effortlessly and your next move was to pass up to le sommer who was free.

all you heard was sakina yell "derrière toi!" (behind you) before you saw someone's leg coming from under you. your first reaction was to jump as the persons leg tripped you onto the grass.

your arms stopped your head from hitting the ground, but you turned to see that it was "oberdorf" who side tackled you.

"that should've been a yellow." you groaned to yourself as you stood up and wiped the grass stains off of your navy blue shorts.

"it was all ball, so no." oberdorf said back. your head quickly turned to her as she smirked at you.

so she's german.. hm. you thought as you recongized the accent.

a few minutes later, as lucy was preparing to throw the ball in-- oberdorf marked you as she stood beside you, not giving you a chance to escape her defense.

"get off of me!" you quietly said when she tried to hold your arm.

"lena, mark her!" ingrid yelled out as you quickly moved back to where lucy might throw.

you were sweaty at this point, but not too tired. a goal before halftime was what you needed to recharge your motivation and energy.

"you aren't getting another goal passed me." oberdorf says quickly. you shake your head as you look at her. the audacity.

"who are you talking to?" you snap.

"you." she smirked.

"well, oberdorf-- if you look at the scoreboard, you guys need another goal to equal us." you say as you both push back with bouhaddi, lyon's goalkeeper, was ready to hit the ball up the pitch.

"my name is lena." she scoffs as you went to saying her last name instead of her first.

"well, lena. its nice to meet you." you look ahead to see bouhaddi's kick.

the ball goes up to cascarino who heads the ball over to kumagai. you ran closer to offer help away from popp, but lena is chasing you.

the japanese decided to kick it back to renard so you move back to your natural spot. oberdorf follows you since she is assigned to mark you.

"what do you mean its nice to meet me? you met me last year." the german comments.

your mind seems to ease at this, you know that you've met her somewhere, and its fortunate that lena knows.

after a few minutes, you couldn't respond to her since the game is heating up. lucy cleared the ball out a few times, which caused a bunch of throw ins to occur.

fridolina rolfo almost scored after kicking from outside of the box, but the ball came straight to you. your body turned quickly, so her shot deflected off of your back and away from a chance of goal.

"where did we meet?" you ask as you end up near her again, waiting to defend the ball away from a free kick for wolfsburg by their goal.

"the adidas photoshoot during the world cup." she quietly says.

your conversations were quiet, since the empty stadium could echo your voice loudly if you were loudly talking.

the free kick was cleared by renard, but being on wolfsburg side of the pitch made you concerned. if lyon kept this up, wolfsburg might equalize.

luckily, in the 87th minute, lyon had a corner kick.

the kick was taken and it landed at your foot. you shot the ball towards the left side of the goal but it deflected off of janssen's foot.

the deflected landed on the back foot of gunnarsdottir and landed in the goal for the third goal of the final.

the group hug was filled with shouts that echoed throughout the stadium. after hugging dottir, cascarino and sakina patted your back as they jumped up and down around you.

"three goal contributions! you are insane." sakina says with her strong French accent, you smile as the end of the game is nearing. wolfsburg will have to pull of a miracle to beat lyon now.

in the last minute of extra time, oberdorf had you marked again. remembering what she said earlier, you smirked as you looked at her tense body position.

"I might've not scored against you, but I did get another assist." you say.

lena looked towards you with a straight face before responding, "ha ha" sarcastically.

when the whistle blows, you run to selma bacha who was on the line ready to be subbed in. she held you tightly as you repeatedly yelled, "we did it! we did it!"

after ellie carpenter hugged you for your one goal and two assists, you saw lena pulling pernille into a quick side hug.

saying that you didn't look at lena differently than all of the other girls would've been a lie. you found her attractive, and you know she knows she's attractive. that smirk wasn't fooling anyone.

"hey, great game lena." you said as you quickly hugged her. playing all 90 minutes made you tired, but you were okay since you're a champion's league winner.

she hugged you back. not to be weird, but you liked the way she smelled.

"thank you. can I have your shirt later?" she asks. you smirk at the idea of her wanting to swap jerseys with you.

"sure, as long as I can have yours." your eyebrows knitted together as you put your hands on her shoulders. lena smiled through her sad eyes and nodded her head at you.

part two here

<3

[muirneach]

FINALLY after 9 times this set 😭

society if frances could actually take advantage of break point opportunities

[amirasainz]

can you do a pierre x amira x kika

where it follows euros 2024 with portugal vs france and it’s like amira is stuck in the middle of them

I'm baaack! So I knoow that the Euro Cup is over, but I just started on writing some requests. There will be mentions of the Austian football team as well, but I just chose them randomly. My home team, thankfully, won the Euro Cup, YAY!

Enjoy reading and spam me with requests. :)

-XoXo

No Part 2!

Sitting in the middle

Amira never imagined she would visit Germany. It wasn’t that she had anything against the country; it simply hadn’t been one of her dream destinations. Yet here she sat, in the VIP area of a German football stadium, waiting for the game. For some, this match might not be the most exciting one during the Euro Cup.

But for Amira, it meant much more than just a game. Her companions, Pierre and Kika, supported different teams—each fiercely loyal to their home countries. When they learned that their teams would face off against each other, tensions escalated. Seeking a neutral presence during the game, they convinced Amira to join them in Germany after a day of cuddling and kissing, like friends just do.

And so, there she was. Pierre, decked out in team merchandise, sat on her right, while Kika proudly wore the famous number 7 on her back, Portuguese flags painted on her cheeks. And Amira, who decided to dress in normal clothes but had bracelets from each of the teams on her wrist, sat in the middle of them. The trio attracted curious glances from fellow spectators.

Initially, everything went smoothly. Respectful banter filled the air. But after the first half, things changed. “Of course, the Portuguese players have to collapse on the field, pretending they’ve suffered a catastrophic injury—even when no one touched them,” Pierre grumbled. Kika shot him a dagger-filled look. “Excuse me?” she retorted. Pierre’s sarcastic response— “You are excused”—didn’t help matters.

Amira, engrossed in chocolate-covered cherries, paid little attention to the escalating tension between her friends. As the second half began, emotions boiled over. “Pierre, you can’t be serious. EVERYBODY knows Portugal is better than France in football. We have players like Ronaldo, Pepe, Dias, Félix, Ne-”“Oh, come on! Ronaldo is the only player everyone knows from your team, and he isn’t even that good,” Kika interrupted. “What about M’Bappé?” she added.

Before the argument could escalate further, Amira innocently interjected: “I like the Austrian team.” Both Kika and Pierre stared at her, equally surprised. “They play like a real team—a close-knit family. Their joy on the field is contagious, and the fans are incredible,” Amira explained. Her friends exchanged puzzled glances but quickly agreed, because the didn't want to upset their babygirl. “Yes, you’re right, cherié,” Pierre conceded. “Austria won the toughest group in the Euro Cup.” Kika nodded in agreement. “Their players seem genuinely nice, and their fans show respect. Unlike those Turkish fans—disgusting behavior.”

Amira beamed at her friends. “Cherry, anyone?” she asked, lifting her fork.