#two Chelsea wins today

[pernillecfcw]

A double Chelsea win today 🤩

[woso-dreamzzz]

Arsenal

Hardersson x Teen!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: The wsl title race

The year you turn eighteen, is the year Arsenal win the wsl.

The year before had been your development year. The year that had you as the second choice keeper with only a few starts but somehow still more minutes than you were getting at Linköping.

This year, you were sharing time with the other keeper consistently. You were being brought out to play more often and you were making crucial saves to keep Arsenal in the title race.

It seemed a bit like fate that the two contenders were facing each other on the last day. It seemed a bit like fate that it was the two teams that had shaped your early childhood.

Arsenal vs Chelsea.

Both were level on points with Chelsea, as suspected, leading on goal difference.

You had to win.

Losing wasn't an option.

Especially at a packed out Emirates with you in goal.

Especially at a stadium where your mothers sat in the stands watching.

Eighteen years old and everything is resting on your shoulders.

It had been a bit of a surprise that you were chosen to start today when the other keeper was more experienced with the pressure of this but you refused to crumble under it.

You sigh, long and drawn out as you approach your goal.

Chelsea come out swinging.

Two shots within the first five minutes.

One off target and one straight into your hands.

Chelsea continue with their pressure, mounting a dangerous attack as you scramble to keep their shots out. You've given away more corners than you think you ever have during a game and you're barking out orders to your backline practically every minute.

You're not confrontational. You pride yourself on being calm and quiet off the pitch. But on the pitch, you know you're in charge of your backline and you're not afraid to yell instructions to make sure they don't fall apart.

Which is something they're clearly doing to Chelsea's building pressure.

You can't blame them either because everything comes down to this match. Everything comes down to these small moments as the ball streaks towards you.

You think, briefly as you go to the ground with the ball in your grip, that had you not played against some of these players during the recent international break then you would have let a few of these goals in.

But you've worked out some of their tells.

Like how the player that just shot at you favours going for the top right corner and how the one before always switches foot before they shoot.

It gives you enough time to prepare and enough time to move to make the save.

You pant for a moment, catching your breath before getting up and rolling the ball off to your centre-back.

Chelsea is brutal as usual and you just know that Morsa is up in the Arsenal friends and family box gloating.

She's never really given up her endless bragging about Chelsea.

You're not going to let her have the satisfaction though as you ready yourself for a goal kick, sending it streaking up the other end of the field and giving you another time to wipe the sweat from your brow with a towel.

For once though, Arsenal remain in possession and it's a split second decision that has the ball buried in Chelsea's net.

You celebrate with the fans, jumping and pumping your fist into the air.

You know what's coming next.

This whole season, it's been the same thing.

A brutal battle for possession, missed shots and corners until Arsenal finally slot it home. That's when the gloves come off and more goals are scored in quick succession.

It's happened time and time again all season and you're happy to see another two goals go in within the space of ten minutes.

Three goals up at the Emirates before half time.

Three goals up at the Emirates at ninety minutes.

Four goals up at the Emirates during injury time.

The final whistle goes and you abandon your goal, jumping straight into the team hug as it's announced that Arsenal are the winners of the wsl.

The fans are cheering and you've got the medal around your neck and your captain is raising the trophy.

Your eyes are focussed on where family and friends are being let onto the pitch.

Your Momma and Morsa are walking on with Frido.

Throughout your childhood, one of your earliest memories of your Morsa is her wearing a Chelsea jersey.

You'd been watching the match on tv with Momma.

Momma, to you, had always been Wolfsburg. She had been Wolfsburg then Chelsea then Bayern. She had never screamed Chelsea the way Morsa did though.

Morsa had always been Chelsea in your mind, even when you had all been at Bayern. It was irrefutable fact to you.

Magdalena Eriksson was always Chelsea. Chelsea defender. Chelsea player. Chelsea captain.

But here she was, in an Arsenal shirt, the crest clearly exposed on her chest. She was walking towards you, in your Arsenal shirt with your name on it on the day you've just won the wsl.

She joins the hug Momma has already swept you into, cocooning you in warmth.

"I'm so proud of you," Pernille says," You did so well today."

"So well," Magda echoes," Greatest keeper in the world!"

You laugh as you pull away. "I'm not quite there yet, Morsa."

"One day," She says to you," One day soon. You will be. I know it."

"She was telling absolutely everyone," Pernille laughs," She wouldn't shut up."

"She even started cheering for Arsenal," Frido tells you, sweeping you up into her own hug," I never thought I would see the day when Magda starts singing North London forever."

"No I didn't!" Magda's cheeks puff out in outrage. "Stop spreading lies!"

"I have it on video."

[insidekatmind]

Interview~Levi Colwill

Wearning: +18, smut

The match between Tottenham and Chelsea had just ended, and the atmosphere in the stadium was electric. The historical rivalry between the two teams had given an incredible show, but of all the players on the field, one had shined more than the others: Levi Colwill. The young Chelsea defender had been a wall, cancelling out any attempts by the opponents to score. He was voted "Man of the Match" and, as a sports journalist, your job was to interview him.

With the microphone in your hand and the earpiece updating you on live time, you positioned yourself in the mixed zone, where players passed for interviews. When Levi approached, his gaze immediately caught yours. Those intense and hungry eyes you felt a warmth inside but ignored the feeling. You had to be professional.

"Levi, an incredible performance today. You literally closed every space. How do you feel after such a strong game?" you asked, trying to keep a neutral tone.

He smiled at you, a smile full of energy that is hard to decipher. "It was tough, but these are the games you love to play. Against Tottenham, in a derby so heartfelt... You know you have to give it all. And today we proved that we are a united team."

As he spoke, his gaze did not detach from yours. You felt a strange tension grow, as if there was something unsaid between you. You tried to concentrate. It was just the usual charisma of a top athlete, you said.

"You’ve stopped Son on more than one occasion, which is no small thing. How did you prepare this match knowing that you would have to face such a dangerous striker?"

He nodded, giving you another smile. "Son is one of the best in the world, so I knew I had to be at my best. But I like this kind of challenge. It’s what motivates me to improve, push myself beyond my limits."

As he answered, you noticed how his eyes wandered over your face, lingering slightly longer than necessary. His smile became more and more mischievous, and you felt a shiver down your back. But you were live, and you kept going.

"Last question, Levi. What is the message you want to send to the Chelsea fans after such an important victory?"

He smiled again, a smile that seemed more personal. "Our goal is to win. Always. Today we have made a big step, but the work doesn’t end there. Thanks to the fans for their support. It is also thanks to them that we play with so much passion."

You closed the interview thanking him, trying to ignore that strange feeling that had accompanied you all along. Levi nodded, and took one last look at you before leaving.

---

After a while, as you were trying to relax from the tension of the live show, you decided to go to the bathroom in the stadium to settle down. It was a quiet moment after the frenzy of the game and the interview. But as soon as you walked in, you heard the door open behind you. You turned, and found yourself face to face with Levi.

"I didn’t think I’d see you again so soon," you said, trying to mask the surprise.

He didn’t answer immediately. He came closer, his eyes even more intense now that you were alone. "You are always so professional, huh?" He said with a smile, but his voice was different, lower, almost provocative.

You tried to keep control. "I try to do my job," you replied, crossing your arms over your chest. "Is there anything that you need?"

"Maybe," he said, getting closer again. Now it was so close that you could feel the warmth of his body. " You know, I couldn’t stop thinking about the way you looked at me during the interview."

"How did I look at you?" you asked, trying to seem indifferent, even if your heart was beating fast.

He didn’t answer your question but was smiling and was getting closer to you

"I noticed," he said, with a grin that made you shiver. "And you know what? I like it."

You didn’t have time to answer. Before you knew it, he’d gently pushed you towards the sink, his hands finding their place on your hips. Your breath was blocked when her lips found yours. It was an intense kiss, full of the same passion that she had shown in the field.

For a moment, you forgot everything: your work, professionalism, context. There was only him, and you, and that strange alchemy that seemed to explode every time your eyes met.

His lips broke away from yours, and for a moment your breaths were the only sound in the room. Levi looked at you with a defiance, almost provocative smile, as if he knew exactly what effect it had on you.

"What’s the matter?" he asked, tilting his head to one side, his voice low and almost amused. "You don’t look so professional now."

You raised an eyebrow, trying to regain control of the situation. " And you don’t seem so focused on your victory," you replied, but your voice trembled slightly, betraying the whirlwind of emotions within you.

He smiled, spreading his legs to get in the middle." Maybe it’s because there is something more interesting here," he said, biting your lower lip slightly and you whimpered.

Your heart has skipped a beat. " Levi, you’re not funny," you said, trying to look stern, but your lips were already bending into a half smile.

"Oh, I’m very serious," he replied. This time, his fingers touched your hand, a light touch, almost random, but enough to hold your breath. " You know, I’m not a quitter. Neither in the field nor outside."

"You always have a strategy, don’t you?" you whispered, your voice barely audible, as your faces drew closer again.

"That’s right," he said, the tone of his voice now lower, almost intimate. "And I usually win."

You couldn’t resist. With a strong gesture, you grabbed him by the shirt, pulling him more towards you as you began to rub your hips on his cock. He let it happen, his eyes shining with satisfaction.

"You’re too sure of yourself,' you said, looking into his eyes as you tried to hide a moan by feeling his hard cock.

"Maybe because I’m right," he replied, his voice a whisper that made you tremble.

You didn’t answer, at least not with words. Your hands slipped behind his back, and you pulled him into a deeper, more urgent kiss. This time, it was as if you had both dropped all claims. His hands grabbed you by the hips, pulling you closer, while you kept rubbing and making both of you groan.

"I thought you were trying to stay professional" he murmured against your lips, interrupting the kiss only for a moment.

"You have a special talent for making me change my mind," you replied, before picking it up again, this time with even more passion.

---

And there you were in the stadium bathroom sitting on the sink with your little dress half up while you were letting Levi fuck you.

"So good at taking my cock," Levi muttered as he smiled arrogantly as he merrily bangs his big hard dick in and out of you.

You groaned as you clung to him more feeling so good. You were trying not to scream but his cock that was banging in and out of you seemed impossible.

"Come on baby make others feel you’re a bitch in need for me" he whispered near your ear and then nibbled your lobe making you whine while your pussy was holding his cock and he groaned as he buried himself further inside.

You took Levi’s face softly and kissed him with pure passion, hunger and desire.

He groans in the kiss as he keeps pushing his cock inside you. His tongue enters your mouth, exploring it.

You began to wave your hips against his. You slowly moved away from the kiss and he didn’t waste time attacking your neck by starting to kiss and suck your weak point.

You groaned for bliss as you flapped your hips towards him for more.

"It’s so big" you whimpered and he kept banging his cock inside of you, groaning as you kept moaning out loud not caring about people who could hear you, you were close and he knew.

He started pushing faster as he was holding his hand on your neck making you whine and you came on his cock.

He continued pushing his cock inside you more harshly, you knew that he was also coming to his high, you decided to arch your back as you began to scratch his back feeling how he was piercing you with his dick, Levi lowered his head on your neck nibbling at your skin as he continued to penetrate you. He came with one blow and sighed again in your neck.

He raised his head and kissed you softly, and you kissed back.

"How about I take you on a date, huh?" Levi whispered next to your lips and you smiled.

[chelseacultt]

I Should Hate You

Katie McCabe x Reader

Summary: Katie is tasked with marking you.

Word Count: 1.1k words

You knew that playing Arsenal at the Emirates would be a struggle. The roaring celebratory crowds anytime an Arsenal player started a run. The equally enthusiastic boos every time you and your teammates so much as touched the ball. Nothing out of the ordinary. What you weren’t expecting, though, was your current position. 

“Sorry, darlin’,” says Arsenal’s Irish superstar as she untangles her body from yours. She stands and reaches both of her hands out for you, a small smile on her face. You might’ve appreciated the gesture if she hadn’t been on the offensive end of all the fouls you’ve encountered during the last 60 minutes. But she has been, so you don’t. Instead, you brush her off and pull yourself up before returning to your original position. 

“That’s, like, the 10th time she’s fouled me. I swear she has a personal vendetta against me or something,” you gesture around aimlessly as you take your place next to your best friend. 

“What has she done now?” Lauren James asks with a quiet laugh as she kneels down to retie her boots. 

“Aside from embarrassing me repeatedly for the past hour, she just tripped me. On purpose, probably.” You reach a hand down and help LJ up once she finishes tying her laces.

LJ lets out a laugh at your reply. “Right, well, that’s called ‘marking.’ Perhaps you’ve heard of it?” LJ squeezes your shoulder with a smirk before the referee blows her whistle, signaling for play to start back up. You share a laugh before attempting to clear your mind and get back into the game. Your attempt starts fruitfully, and you forget all thoughts of your complications with the Irish woman. 

You begin running up the wing as your teammates initiate an attack. “Heads up!” Erin yells as she sends the ball soaring toward you from the 18-yard box. Before you can even think about your next move, a sharp pain shoots through your ankle and shoulder, and you find yourself on the ground once again. Your teammates shout, and the crowd erupts in deafening boos as the referee shows your assailant a yellow and then points to the spot. 

“Oh, bullshit! I hardly touched her!” exclaims a voice you’ve grown all too accustomed to hearing today. 

“Want to explain why I’m on the ground then?” Nathalie helps you up as you glare at Katie. “I’m okay,” you assure Nathalie quickly, brushing off her questioning of your fitness and turning back toward the Ireland captain. 

“I don’t know, but I think VAR’s about to find out,” Katie states with a smirk (that you wish you could smack off her face) as she raises her eyebrows and gestures behind you before crossing her arms. You turn to see the referee walking to the penalty check screen. An intense suspense fills the stadium as everyone awaits the referee’s final decision. 

“Has to go our way. She completely clipped you. Studs up and everything,” speaks your captain, Millie Bright. She joins the swarm of fellow Chelsea players that has now formed around you, the Arsenal players having disbursed. 

After a thorough review of the penalty decision, the referee swiftly returns to the pitch. With a firm expression, she announces her reversal of the call, awarding the decision in favor of Arsenal. 

“Come on! That is shit!” Guro shouts as the referee cancels the previously awarded penalty. The thunderous cheers of the Arsenal fans drown out her shouts. The dramatics of the Norwegian winger do nothing to ease your spirits like they usually would. The game ends shortly after, ending in a 3-1 Arsenal win. 

You deflate, refraining from diplomatically shaking hands with the Arsenal players after the game. You’re standing off to the side watching a bantering Sam Kerr and Caitlin Foord when you sense a presence walking up behind you, followed by the feeling of two hands on your waist. “Think ya better fire your diving instructor,” the voice whispers in your ear before the accompanying hands pull you toward their chest. 

You pull away from the person completely and turn around to face the Irish woman who has recently been the absolute vain of your existence. “I know that you know that call was fucked,” you say sternly.

Katie mock gasps, raises her eyebrows, and drops her jaw. “You want us to what?” she jokes and feigns disbelief.

“Stop,” you reply with a roll of your eyes. She steps closer to you at this reply.

She laughs, “Ah, that’s not a word I hear too often. The eye roll is a different story.” You’re unsure if the innuendos were intentional. The way she’s not even trying to hide biting her lip answers this question for you, though. She smirks again at your lack of response, and you only kind of want to smack it off her face this time. You feel your face heat up as she keeps her eyes trained on yours. You nervously look away and busy yourself watching Niamh’s post-match interview, hoping that Katie will just walk away.

You keep your eyes on Niamh as you feel Katie step close to you again, despite something urging you to turn your head toward the other girl. Katie keeps her hands to herself as she leans close to whisper in your ear this time; her lips brush against your ear as she murmurs, “The more you try to ignore me, the more I want to be right here.” Your breath catches as her words linger in your ear. 

Katie pulls away after a tension-filled minute, her expression combining smug delight and amusement. She clearly enjoys the reaction she just pulled out of you. She steals a quick glance at your lips before looking back up at your eyes and holding out one of her hands. Your mind is still whirling from the earlier feeling of having her body so close to yours. You just stare at her outstretched hand. 

“See something you like?” she asks as she wiggles her fingers and turns her hand around and back. Your eyes jump back up to hers. “Yeah. Your yellow card earlier,” you choke out.

“Katie!” someone yells from behind you before Katie can reply. Probably one of her teammates. You can’t be bothered to check. Katie nods at the person before turning back to you. Her hand still outstretched, she reaches for one of yours and shakes it with no help from you.

“Until next time, love, yeah?” With an ever-present smirk, she finally removes her hand from yours and starts to walk away. “Unless ya don’t feel like waiting that long. Up to you,” she winks and joins her teammate (whose identity you’re still unsure of).

You’re pretty sure she just put the ball in your court.

a/n: first fic 👀 hopefully it's not terrible. I have mixed feelings about my first post being for an arsenal player but!!! advice is appreciated. thank you alright bye

[meazalykov]

open goals

lena oberdorf x bayern!reader

part one here - part two - part three here

summary: love wins at bayern munich

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

after some time, in february 2024, everything changed. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“sounds about right,” she says, chuckling. 

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

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

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

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

“what’s sam getting?”

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

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

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

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

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

you blink, confused by the sudden change in topic. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“please tell me you’re joking.”

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

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

“send them over.”

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

“wolfsburg star rumored to be signing with bayern…”

“lena oberdorf could be on the move…” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“shut up!” sam protests. 

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

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

sydney notices the look on your face and frowns. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“what’d she say?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

not after how she made you feel.

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

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

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

lena sighed,

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

you crossed your arms, looking down at your shoes. 

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

lena’s face softened, and she stepped closer. 

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

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

lena sighed, running a hand through her hair. 

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

you stared at her, completely caught off guard. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

you hesitate, unsure. 

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

lena raises an eyebrow, but she nods. 

“sure, if that makes you more comfortable.”

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

you groan, realizing you’re stuck going alone.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

you chew on that for a while.

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

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

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

you bury your face in your hands, groaning softly. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“what’s wrong?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

the entire locker room listens.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

lena.

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

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

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

“what are you doing here?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“you’ll see.” lena smirks. 

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

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

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

“this is the rookie!!!” you squeak.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“you don’t deserve that.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

after a long pause, she finally speaks.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

part three

[futbolfatale]

Our Photographer

Pairings: Beta Beth Mead/Reader, Delta Viv/Reader, Beta Katie McCabe/Reader, Alpha Leah Williamson/Reader

Tags: Omegaverse, Established Relationship, Polyamory, Minor Injury, Talks of Panic attack

Summary: Reader is a photographer for Arsenal and a player from the opposing team accidentally runs into her.

Wordcount: 1.4K

When you got the job photographing the arsenal team you were ecstatic it was the chance of a lifetime. The more time you spend around the team, the more people notice you, which leads to your mates discovering you right under their noses. Now Life is complete you spend your days at work doing what you are passionate about and your days off with your mates relaxing. But back to today Arsenal is playing Chelsea and tensions are at an all-time high. Your normally peaceful morning routine was disrupted by your mates fluttering around in a panic then your also normally peaceful drive was full of team planning. By the time you got to the arena, you were so ready to be done with this game. You split off from your mates and make your way to your station hopefully it's a cut-and-dry game but knowing these girls it probably won’t be.

Around Halfway through the game, Katie gets a yellow card which isn’t surprising but it does lead to some good shots of her yelling at the ref. As you're looking down at your camera to peak at these pictures of Katie you don’t notice the whistle being blown or the ball coming towards you at an alarming rate. That is until a body crashes into you at full speed crushing both you and your camera. You let out a pained sound as the player pushes off you in a hurry in the process pushing her cleat straight into your stomach. “Get away from her.” Katie comes from god knows where shoving the player you now recognize as Lauren James to the ground. This is surprising considering Lauren is an extremely proud alpha who is kind of stuck up. “You fucking hurt her you bitch” Katie stomps over as Lauren tries to scrabble away. Before she can get her hands on Lauren again the ref pulls a red card and starts to half-drag her from the pitch. 

“Come on love let's get you off the pitch” You startle as Beth helps you sit up her hands gently resting on your back.” “Do you think you can stand up?” She asks her hand rubbing soothing circles on your back. “Probably I don’t think she hit me that hard” You push yourself off the ground with minimal pain. “Leah will take you to medical and I'll be there as soon as I can. “Love you” She hands you off to Leah wraps an arm around you and helps you start to limp to the tunnel. Her purr starts up and between that and her scent you can stay pretty calm. “You better win this Love” You shout back as Beth runs back onto the pitch. “I will just for you darling,” Beth shouts over her shoulder. “Katie is going to have such a fit” Leah jokes as you hobble down the tunnel. “I think she’s already had her fit. Did you see the way she shoved Lauren?” She pushes the door the the medical room open as you both walk in. “No, but it must have been bad for her to get a red card. She’ll be out for the next two games at least so I hope it was worth it to her.” Leah Helps you hop up onto the exam table.  “You know it was she loves to fight” Leah moves away slightly causing a bolt of panic to shoot through your body at the thought of your alpha leaving you. “You going to stay right” You ask grabbing her hand. “Of course, I'll be here the whole time.” Leah comforts sitting in a chair close to the exam table.

It takes ten minutes for a doctor to arrive, and at that time the pain starts to catch up with you mostly in your back and stomach. He has a bad attitude as if it's your fault this all happened. He starts with a concussion exam asking you basic questions until he decides you aren’t concussed. “Where are you feeling the most intense pain.” “ on my stomach and my lower back” You lift your shirt just enough for the now purple bruise in the distinct mark of a cleat to start showing. “Ok that's going to bruise off pretty nicely but I don’t think you have a broken rib,” The Doctor says gently pressing over the bruise. “ I would recommend a hot bath, ibuprofen, and lots of rest.” He pulls his gloves off and exits the room without another word. Which is rather rude considering the situation. “He could have at least given us some pain meds fuckin arsehole” Leah growls before calming herself and helping you down from the table. ”Come on baby let's get you out to the car” Leah holds your hand as you both head out to the parking lot. This whole experience has only solidified your hatred of doctors. 

The walk to the car feels as though it drags on forever but soon enough you can make out the shapes of Viv and Beth leaning against the car having a chat while an annoyed Katie is inside playing on her phone. “Beffy, Viv” You push off of Leah to hobble towards them.  “Love” You laugh as they wrap you in a gentle hug their scent is so comforting but it’s still not enough to help you calm down from the panic residing in your body. “How about we get home and have some dinner” Viv suggests looking right into your eyes as if waiting for some kind of reaction from them.” that sounds good what were you guys thinking” You ask as everyone begins to load into the car. “Thai?” Viv asks sliding into the driver's seat. “That sounds good to me” You slide into the spot between Katie and Beth. “Look at this” Katie says showing her phone to you. It's a video of her shoving this Lauren James with a voiceover about how crazy it is that Lauren would do that to someone. “I feel bad”

“Why should you feel bad she stepped on you after she bodyslammed ya” Katie has this agast look on your face that makes you want to roll your eyes but you restrain yourself. “I don’t think she meant to” You try to justify because there is no way she would try to hurt you like this on purpose. “I going to stop you there baby I've seen the bruise there is no way she wasn’t aware of the damage she was doing to you.” Leah pipes up from the front seat. “You can’t know that” You argue back raising your voice slightly. “I'm not going to fight with you about this how about we talk about something else?” Leah pops the radio on and turns it up slightly. “Okay, whatever did you guys hear Charli XCX’s song guess,” You ask pulling your phone out of your bag. “Ya, the one you sent me about a million videos on” Beth pipes up from where she was ordering Thai on her phone.”That one!!! Billie Eilish’s Verse was so good.” You fangirl a little.”Okay, I will admit it was pretty good but the videos of her in concert” Katie smirks “No because literally she is gorgeous” The rest of the car ride goes in a blur after that conversation becomes much easier once the fight is forgotten.

Once food has been acquired and you are back home the panic in your chest finally begins to recede. You have some Pain medication and grab a hot compress for your stomach before heading into the living room. you get comfortable between Beth and Viv on the couch. “Wanna Watch Mamma Mia” Leah asks joining ya’ll on the couch. “Are you guys going to hate me if I say yes” “No we would never hate you, especially over something so stupid” Viv comforted as you stretched out over their laps. You Leah open the film and you let out a sigh of relief as the film starts up. “ARE WE WATCHING MAMMA MIA AGAIN” Katie complains throwing a blanket over you guys on the couch. “Ya, you know you love it.”You pipe up gesturing for her to come and join you. “Where am I supposed to sit you’ll are taking up the whole couch.” Katie pouts.” just put the cushion on the floor and come sit with us” Beth gestures aggressively towards the cushions on the other couch. This isn’t all bad in fact life is pretty good.

[repulsiveliquidation]

Guardian of My Heart || Leah Williamson

based on this request here! it's not that long but i loved writing this so much so i hope y'all like it!

warnings : angst with happy ending. mentions of injury.

“And that’s the final whistle folks, Chelsea takes this game with a comfortable 3-1 win over the Gunners here at Stamford Bridge.”

Leah’s eyes fill with tears at the final whistle. Her heart shatters audibly in her chest. A game they needed to win to have a chance at the title, thrown away by silly mistakes and sloppy football. She walks around the pitch in shame, apologizing to all the Gooners in the stands who came only to see them fail.

“I’m sorry,” she says to the crowd, tears falling down her face. The rest of the girls do the same, making their way to the stands to thank fans and sign jerseys. The home side erupts in a painful cry of victory, one that makes Leah’s chest almost cave in on itself.

The changing room is silent except for the sound of bags being packed and the muted drumming of water on the floor from the showers. One by one the girls make their way to the bus, offending socks from the wardrobe mishap filling the trash bin in the locker room.

Leah sulks when she hears the girls all planning to see their partners at home and just forget today’s game. She just jammed her AirPods into her ears and played her country music loudly, hoping the gaping hole of loneliness in her chest would go away with the serenading words of Luke Combs.

She knew her house would be lonely. She knew her house would be quiet. She knew her house would be dark. There was no one waiting. The person she wanted most would not be there. There was only one person to blame for that.

“Leah, you can’t keep doing this to me!” you yelled, rounding the coffee table as Leah stumbled into the house at twenty past three on a Saturday. You came over at eight thinking Leah would be home since she promised to help you cook dinner and enjoy the Bachelor finale on TV together. Instead, you walked into her apartment with your spare key to an empty house and her bedroom a mess. Her makeup was all over the bathroom and she had clearly changed her shoes at least three times.

You waited and waited for her to get home, calling the Arsenal girls to figure out where she had gone. They felt sorry for you and tried to get Leah to go home to you but she said something that the moment it left her lips, your heart broke into pieces.

“You’re such a fucking needy bitch, get off my back for once!”

You don’t know why you still sat in her living room for three more hours and waited for her to get home. You knew you needed to know she was home safe. That she was okay. That she didn’t choke on her own vomit from drinking too much. Because despite being her second choice for a while now, you still loved the England skipper. You still love Leah Williamson.

Leah drove home in pin-drop silence. Her kit bag was thrown in the back to be dealt with later, her arm on the door holding her head up as the streets of London were a blur. She parked in her spot and walked out like a zombie, not noticing your car in her driveway and her porch light on.

The key turned easily and she walked into her house to the turntable on low and the smell of smileys and a roast coming from the kitchen. She looked down and saw a pair of shoes that she recognized and a voice that was singing along to the music that she had fallen asleep to a million times.

“Y/N?” Leah spoke aloud, toeing her shoes off and dropping her kit bag. She shuffled into the kitchen and saw you standing there at the stove, stirring in the roasting tray and making a gravy. There were two plates on the island she instantly knew which one was hers. You turn and give her a soft smile, pushing your chin out to gesture her to sit. She does and grabs the bottle of wine you’ve set out and pours the two glasses full of Cabernet.

“What are you doing here?” she asks, grabbing a smiley off the plate she knew was hers and nibbling on the cheek.

“I wanted to make sure you had something to eat,” you answer curtly as you put the whisk down and grab a gravy boat, smiling to yourself when you still remember where it was.

“Y/N,” Leah says sternly, putting her half-eaten smiley down.

You turn and put the gravy boat next to the roast, finally looking at your ex-girlfriend.

“I needed to know that you were okay, after today.”

“Why?” Leah asks, voice carrying a lilt of guilt with fresh tears filling her eyes.

You walked around the island and turned the skipper in her seat to face you. You held her face in your hands, wiping the tears that fell. You had been in this situation before when Leah tore her ACL.

“You’re going to be okay, Leah.”

“What if I never play like I used to ever again?”

“You don’t ever need to worry about that because you will. The Leah Williamson I know never gives up.”

She chuckles but more fear settles in her heart. Leah looks up at you at the very island she’s sitting at right now.

“I’m scared,” she admits sheepishly, looking defeated and terrified. You cup her face and wipe the tear stains off her face.

“You will get through this Leah and I will be there every step of the way.”

“You won’t leave? They always leave.”

“I would never. I love you.”

“I love you too,” she whispers back to you before you kiss her, her mind willing itself to get better. If not for her, for you.

Zach Bryan’s voice fills the room softly, the lyrics of ‘Tourniquet’ “take care of the blood that your love runs through” remind you of why you packed up a roast and stopped at the shops for a bag of frozen smileys. It reminds you of all the nights you massaged her leg when it was feeling tight. It reminds you of all the nights when you sat beside her and held her close while she cried at another delay in her recovery. It reminds you of all the nights you spent awake with her when she couldn’t sleep because of the pain.

Was it worth it? Yes.

Would you do it all over again? Yes.

Leah breaks down when her eyes meet yours. The smell of your perfume and your musk flood her senses with all the reasons why she was in love with you all those years. Deep down inside she knew she still felt that way and hoped that you did too.

Leah cries. The pain of losing, hurting her hamstring just as she’s called to the England squad for the first time since her ACL, and the overwhelming sense of disappointment burst the moment you held her in your arms again. It was home and it was safe. Leah clung onto your hoodie and made a right mess on the front but you didn’t care. Leah needed you and you wished you could take away her pain.

“I just wasn’t me out there today and that cost us the game,” Leah muttered after calming herself down and her hiccups stopped.

“Today wasn’t just your fault, honey,” you cooed, taking the hair tie out of Leah’s hair and combing your fingers through her blonde locks. She rested her head against your stomach and closed her eyes, zeroing in on your touch.

“I let the team down,” she countered, pulling you closer to her.

“It just wasn’t anyone’s day today, my love,” you cupped her face and wiped more of the tears that were about to fall from her eyes. You leaned in a little and were a bit unsure, but feeling her nudge herself towards you gave you the approval you sought.  

Her lips felt familiar against yours.

Salty.

Warm.

Recognizable.

Home.

She chased your lips and melted into them, gripping your wet hoodie like her life depended on it or that you would vanish if she let go, even for a second.

“I’m sorry I treated you the way I did, you don’t deserve that. I don’t deserve you.”

“You deserve someone willing to love you for you, Leah,” you reassure her and seal it with a kiss, walking away from her to chuck the roast back in the oven to warm up for a bit and her smileys into the air fryer for a little reheating.

Zach’s voice fills the blanks when you look at her blue eyes, her features blow you away every time you look at her. You bled your whole soul into things you can't control; in a world you'll never satisfy brings Leah back to reality. The game today was good. It didn’t go their way from the beginning with those wretched socks and their delayed start but they gave it their all. It was a lesson to be learned and one to look back on when the team had lost its spark.

Leah scoffs down half the roast and convinces you to throw a couple more smiley into the air fryer for her to drown in your delicious gravy. You put a fresh toothbrush next to hers in her bathroom and have a glass of warm milk on your bedside waiting for you like you like.

“You remembered,” you tell her as she hands you a ratty jersey for you to sleep in. You throw it on and inhale her delicate scent, your heart filling with warmth and ease.

“I still set it out sometimes you know, especially after you left.”

“You’ll have to try and remember again now, I think,” you tease, and she stands in front of you. You sip on your milk and she kisses the foam mustache off your lips.

“I’ll never forget, my love. Ever.”

[me-loving-woso]

Bruises, Apologies and Cookies?

You already know the drill. I don't know what this is. It took me a month to do it and it's not proofread. It's 17k and you have to imagine this as an AU in which Jorge Vilda is not the coach of Spain, but it's in therapy for his misogynistic tendencies and anger issues, and the Italian national team is actually a good team. I really hope you enjoy this.

Prompt: You start to hook up with Alexia, but then you realise you aren't meant to play against one another. (I'm bad at summaries.)

Here is Part 2

-

You were traveling to Barcelona today.

Your team and the Barca team had organized the game for the Gamper trophy, and you couldn’t wait to play against your dream team. Barcelona and Chelsea have always been the team you supported when you were young, even though you were neither Spanish nor English.

You have always loved playing football since you were little. And the fact that you were raised in Italy and were Italian, one of the best countries to experience football, made your love for the sport grow even more. But you knew you couldn’t go far in your country because women’s soccer wasn’t very developed in Italy, so as soon as possible, you decided to leave for the US. There, you studied to become a physiotherapist and played ‘soccer.’

You weren’t known for your speed or physicality but your football IQ and passes. At first, your coach put you as a striker, but then he soon realized that scoring wasn’t your forte. But when one of your teammates in midfield got injured, your coach put you as a defensive midfielder, and the rest was history.

You would control the midfield and give confidence and calmness to the defenders and midfielders; you had a style that reminded people of Busquets.

In college, you met your best friend, who was also Italian. She was your number 1 supporter; she would always come to your games, cheer for you, and support you even when you transferred to your first real club, Atletico Madrid. 

To the world, you were known as one of the cleanest players in La Liga, your timing was always perfect when you tackled someone, and you were able to anticipate the player’s moves so well that, in most cases, you didn’t even have to tackle them, you would snatch the ball away from them before they could pass it to someone else.

This made you one of the only players to never receive a yellow card for a foul. You only received one when you took off your shirt for scoring the winning goal for the Copa de la Reina.

After two outstanding seasons at Atletico, Chelsea called you, but not even after a year did you send in a transfer request, which you never did; you always waited for your contract to finish.

After a disastrous year at Chelsea, you wanted to go back home to Italy, and two clubs from your country showed interest. Roma and Juventus. You never supported Juventus as a child, so the decision was a no-brainer for you. You were back home, playing for a great team and sharing the pitch with your friends from the national team. You signed a contract until 2024, and you would respect it, even though you received many offers from other clubs, one in particular being Barcelona. But whenever the coach of Barca called, you told him about your wish to finish the season with Roma; they respected your decision and said they would try to get you during the summer window.

-

This left you playing the Joan Gamper trophy against your dream team, and you got the impossible task of marking Alexia Putellas. It was the first time that you were playing against her. Over the years, you had the opportunity to play against her, but between injuries or other stuff, you never managed to do that. So you were looking forward to it. 

During the warm-up, you found yourself stealing glances at her; she was even more beautiful in real life. As you saw her train, you tried to find a way in which you could stop her. She was quick, physical, and loved going deep. So the only way to possibly stop her was to anticipate her and not let the ball go over you to her or stop her before she could pass you. You loved a good challenge.

As soon as the game started, Barcelona came at your defense hard, but you wouldn’t let the ball go past you. As soon as you had the ball, you would pass it to one of your teammates or opt for a long pass if your number 9 was free.

Even though you were extremely clean in your tackles and respectful, you were famous for cursing in Italian whenever you had to run; you hated running, and whenever you would recover a ball, you would subtly celebrate in your opponent’s face. You were very competitive in that sense, and you knew that not many opponents went past you, so this furthered, even more, your competitiveness.

In the first minutes of the game, as you analyzed your opponent’s playing style, you realized nobody would dare to move the ball through the center; they knew they wouldn’t get past you, and you smirked at that realization.

The first time you had to mark Alexia was an offside kick for Barcelona; you shielded her with your hands, not making her move. You were shorter than her; you reached her shoulders, so you knew she could physically overwhelm you well enough, so you had to find another way to stop her. She was brilliant when playing. She could see the spaces and know exactly where to place the ball to her teammates, so you knew that distracting her even a second would help you anticipate her and stop her from going forward. 

As she was trying to unmark herself from you, you wanted to distract her by talking in Spanish, “They always call you La Reina because of your skills, and now that I’ve seen you in action, I can confirm that you live up to that nickname.” She slightly blushes.

“It’s not bad having someone like you watching me destroy your team.” She pushes you slightly to show her teammates that she is free. “I must say, though, that you look pretty good out in the field.”

Now it’s your time to blush; you turn your head to face her quickly, turning your neck upwards to look at her hazel eyes, “Flattery won’t get you past me.” You wink. “But I won’t tell you to stop; I like where this is going.”

Her teammates kick the ball, which makes you both go back into game mode.

The second time you talked to her, it was during a corner. They were using her as a decoy to make your team change the positions on the corner kick, but you soon realized that, and you went to mark her “You know, I think I’m actually enjoying this game more because I’m playing against you.”

“Is that so? I’m glad you are enjoying this. But don’t think I don’t know you are trying to distract me.”

“Me? I would never distract you in any way!” You act offended, putting your hand on your heart.

“Then you are secretly trying to win my heart.” She smirks, taking her eyes off the ball and looking at yours.

“Well, if winning your heart gets me a victory on the field, consider it a strategic move.” You remark, grinning as you see the captain of the other team a fraction of a second distracted, making the ball perfectly fall into your feet.

With a calculated movement, you dribble past her while she gives you a shocked look and sends a perfect ball to your teammate, who starts the counterattack. Nobody was expecting that, so your number nine, Giacinti, ran all the length of the pitch without any dangerous opponents, leaving her only with Paños. She scored, and you were finally 1-1.

As soon as she scored, you could see that Alexia’s expression changed sorrowfully as she blamed herself for the goal while you screamed, running to your teammate who had just scored.

As soon as you get on your field to restart the match, you walk past her, and she shakes her head sarcastically, “I thought I was good at playing mind games, but you, you’re on a whole new level.”

She walked past you, “Mind games? Nah, I’m just enjoying the company of a certain someone on the field.” You remark innocently.

After 45 minutes of intense battle between you and Alexia, in which you basically won all of them, Alexia became increasingly irritated. She was getting more sloppy and aggressive, but you expected that, so whenever you had the ball or just snatched it from her, you would pass it to one of your teammates as soon as possible.

The first half of the game ended, and you returned to the dressing room. You were still on a draw, so you only needed a goal to shock Spain and win the Gamper trophy, which was your objective. So during the break, you strategized ways to score that damn goal. After the 15-minute break, you returned to the pitch and knew what to do.

Roma was starting the second half. Giacinti passed you the ball from the center of the pitch immediately after the whistle, and she began her run. You stopped the ball and kicked it high, precisely where she needed it. She had only to dribble past Ona Batlle to score and did it perfectly. 

For now, you were winning, and you could see that Barcelona was getting even more frustrated. They needed to win that trophy; it was their trophy. 

You again found yourself in the same position as the corner kick-off. Alexia was outside the area, and you were marking her again. “If you get past me, I’ll let you swap shirts.” You smirk arrogantly. 

“You’ll let me?” She chuckles ironically, not making the same mistake and, this time, focusing on the ball.

“Yes, I’ll let you.” You wink at her, putting your arm on her chest, trying to put yourself in front of her. You swear you could hear her heart beat a little faster.

“Are you sure you are okay? I swear I could hear your heart beat faster.” You tease her.

She blushes, forcefully removing your arm from her, “You are making it really hard for me to focus, and it’s not just because of the game.”

“Oh really? Maybe I’m just trying to give you a good reason to remember this match and me.”

“You wish.”

“Joking aside, do you wanna swap shirts after the match?” You quickly glance at her.

“You’ll get to see my shirt every day next season.” She raises her eyebrow knowingly.

“Wait, you know?”

“Of course, I know; I was the one that suggested you to the coach.”

“Really?” You smile dumbly at her, a mistake nearly costing you a goal. She manages to get the ball and throws a beautiful cross, which thankfully was stopped by your defender Linari. You sigh in relief and get back to the game. 

The game was getting more and more aggressive as time was running out. You didn’t know how, but you were still winning. As you were waiting to intercept a long pass from your ex-teammate from Atletico, Mapi Leon, Alexia was trying to anticipate it.

You managed to quickly control the ball, and with your first touch, you passed it to Giugliano. Still, she didn’t see that you already had given the ball away because she raised her knee to try to control the ball, but there was no ball to control. Instead, she hit you where it would hurt the most: right on your groin. It hurt. It really hurt. You wouldn’t expect it to hurt that much when you were a girl, but it did hurt. So much so that you skipped a breath and mumbled in your mother language words that you wouldn’t repeat. The game was still ongoing, but you needed a minute, and Alexia noticed that. 

“Hey, are you okay?” She asks worriedly, putting your hand on your shoulder while you are crouching down.

“Alexia, you didn’t hit the ball. And you got a powerful leg, I must say.” You sit down on the grass, visibly in pain. Your captain, Bartoli, noticed that, and she soon stopped the game and went to you.

“Tutto bene?”

“Si mi serve solo un secondo, questa qui- pointing to Alexia- mi ha dato un calcio.”

“Dove?”

“Nella figa,” You say, putting your hands over your head while your skipper laughs.

“Cazzo ti ridi.” You say, laughing too at the situation. Then, some of your teammates swarmed you, pushing Alexia away, who took a step back embarrassingly.

As your skipper told everyone what happened, some other teammates started laughing, making the tension of the match crack. You show the finger to all the teammates who laughed at you, still in pain. 

“Riesci ad andare avanti?” The defender asks you, trying to keep a straight face.

“Si, si dammi solo un minuto, andate pure.” Your teammates slowly return to their positions, and Alexia approaches you. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t think I hit you that hard.” She gives out a hand for you to grab to help you stand up to your feet.

“Don’t worry about it. It has always been a dream of mine for a hot woman to hit me on the groin.” You chuckle sarcastically, clearly not understanding what you have just said.

“You think I’m hot?” She grins while you clean off the dirt from your shirts.

“So not the point.” You say while returning back to your position. 

The match went on more fluidly, with your team more defending rather than attacking; you unconsciously avoided Alexia all game, swapping marks with one of your teammates for Aitana, which wasn’t at all that better, but at least she didn’t make you feel all hot and confused as the captain of the other team did. Eventually, you did lose the game, 3 to 2, but you thought this was a great way to begin the season.

As you went into the dressing room to get ready for a night out with your friend, you heard the cleats of a person behind you. You turn around, and your body winces, reminding you of the pain that you experienced earlier.

“Hey!” She walks up to you, still dressed from the match.

“Hey.” You reply awkwardly.

“Soo.” She crosses her arms and begins rocking her legs. “You said that if I got past you, you would swap shirts with me.” She smiles innocently, waiting for your reply.

“Well, that was before you made me lose the capacity to have children.” You say dramatically.

“Okay, that’s a little too dramatic. I didn’t mean to hurt you; I honestly thought that I was hitting the ball.” She says sorrowfully, looking down.

“Well, you didn’t.” You chuckle. Making her laugh.

“What were your teammates laughing about earlier?”

“I just told them what had happened. I would have laughed too if I wasn’t in so much pain.”

“Why would you? You were hurt!” She returns her gaze to you while you give her a shy smile.

“Well, you would laugh too if someone like Leo Messi would hit you in the groin like that. Even though I deeply doubt it.”

“So you think I’d have a future as a kickboxer?”

“Definitely.” You beam at her, clearly entranced by her. She was slightly biting her lips in an attempt to shy a smile; you thought to yourself that she had really gorgeous eyes. 

“So the jersey…” She suggests clearly understanding that you were slightly zoned out. You blush, a little embarrassed, and take off your shirt quickly, folding it, and then you hand it to her. 

“It’s a little dirty; I’m sorry.”

“You just ran on the pitch for over 90 minutes; you don’t have to apologize.” She takes it from you as her fingers lightly brush yours. What you noticed was that her hands were warm. It felt weird to you, as most people in your life had cold or sweaty hands, which you hated, but hers were different. They exuded this feeling of comfort that made you miss her touch as soon as she took the jersey from you.

You blink once, trying to return to the real world, waiting for her shirt. 

“Am I going back to Roma empty-handed?” You joke, while she was most definitely not looking at you in the eyes but more at your body, making you feel a little self-conscious.

“Oops, sorry.” She quickly removes her jersey, but as she is about to remove it, she stops, “Now this is embarrassing. I’m stuck.”

You chuckle, standing on your tippy toes, “Can I help you?”

“Yes, please.” You raise your hands, take the hem of her shirt, and pull it up; as soon as her head is free, her eyes lock in with yours, making you gulp slightly at the intense eye contact, lowering your feet, clearly showing the prominent height difference.

“Thank you.” She whispers, never taking her eyes off you. Your mind was getting hazier for every blink of your eyes, and you felt your cheeks redden. You thought you needed to take a step back to recompose yourself and clear that haze in your brain, but something about how she looked at you made you not move for even an inch. “How long are you staying in Barcelona?”

“Tomorrow, we are leaving.” You tell her truthfully without thinking, nor blinking, for that matter.

“What are you doing tonight?” She asks you seriously, moving her gaze dangerously close to your lips.

“I’m going out with Mapi and some of your teammates. We wanted to catch up, and she wanted me to meet some of you guys and her girlfriend.” You say, never moving your gaze from her; you couldn’t.

“ISo we’ll see each other there. And after that?” Her expression exuded an energy that you couldn’t quite understand

“What?”

“What are you doing after that?” She speaks more clearly, enunciating every word.

“I’ll probably go back to the hotel and sleep.” You reply honestly.

“I want to make it up to you. Will you let me do that?” She asks shyly, softening her gaze a little.

You, dumb as you are, don’t get what she was suggesting, making you, for the first time, take your eyes off hers and look down, which uncoincidentally was her chest. Still, right now, it doesn’t concern you that much. “You don’t have to; I know it wasn’t on purpose.” You reply innocently.

What actually concerned you was how nonchalantly, with her index finger, she gently raised your chin, making you look at her again, making you want to giggle from the nervousness.

“Are you sure?” She smirks, clearly understanding the effect that she was having on you.

The following words were some of the most honest words that ever came out of your mouth. “No, I’m not sure.”

She chuckles, “Give me your phone.” She tells you rather than ask you, making you once again be sure about your sexuality.

“It’s in the locker room.”

“Go get it.” She instructs you while she leans against the wall, still shirtless. She clearly knew what she was doing and why she was doing it.

You reply with a short nod, and without saying anything, you walk to the dressing room, your body on autopilot, with your brain still not functioning correctly. You get in the locker room and are soon swarmed by your team congratulating you, but you only have a task in mind: get the phone to Alexia. So, after some short answers, you quickly return to the hallway, searching for the woman.

She had your shirt around your neck with her back on the wall and followed your movements with her eyes, never taking her gaze off you.

You put yourself in front of her, taking her hand from her sides and placing your phone. She turns on the phone and sees your lock screen; it is a picture of your dog. “Cute dog.” She comments while she hands you back the phone so you can type the password. Then you hand it back to her, and she puts her number in your phone.

“If you are not too tired after we go out for drinks with the team if you want, we can do something else later.” She gives you a soft smile, giving you back your phone.

“Something else like what?” You tease her; riling her up is becoming one of your favorite things.

“Anything you are up to.” Raising her eyebrows, you place your hand on her stomach, gently scratching her skin. She stiffens at the contact but then relaxes, giving you a soft smile.

“What makes you think I am going to say yes?” You once again tease her.

“By your willingness to give me your phone and your hand placement.” She smirks while you retract your hand from her almost unconsciously, feeling the heat of your slight embarrassment settle on your face.

She opens her legs to reach your height, and with a small tug, she makes you come closer to her. She takes you by your sides, gently stroking the skin with her thumb. You were rather small-built, and she had big hands, which you were modestly and unceremoniously obsessed about. Her sudden pull on her made you stumble slightly, making you place your hands on her shoulders to stabilize yourself.

“So, what do you say? Will you let me take you out tonight?” You gently massage the back of her neck while playing with her baby hair.

“I’ll let you know.” You remove yourself from her, already missing the contact, and return to your teammates, leaving her in the hallway.

As soon as you sit in your cubby, you open your phone to see if she isn’t lying and actually put her phone number in your contacts. She did. In style, you could say. She saved herself as Your Favourite Kickboxer ;). That woman had some nerve, you thought, but it made you chuckle in surprise a little too loud, which got the attention of some of your teammates. They began asking you why you took so long to return to the locker room or were smiling dumbly at your phone. You soon shut down any suggestive questions and went in for a shower, making your friends more and more curious.

As soon as you leave the locker room, you meet Mapi and her girlfriend outside the pitch; between hugs and greetings, you enter their car and begin driving to a local bar with them. But before entering the place, you cannot not bring yourself not to text the woman who had been on your mind since the beginning of the day.

‘So you are my favorite kickboxer?” ‘I must say you got some nerve. The first time we met, you kicked me in the groin, and then you already put the salt into the wound.’

‘I had to find a way to make you recognize me.’ She replies almost immediately

‘I don’t know many, Alexias.’

‘Where would the fun be if I only put my name on it?’

‘Fair enough. Now I have a place I need to be. I’ll see you later?’

‘And I have a dog to feed. Yes, I’ll be there in 20 minutes.’

You were ordering some drinks and food while most of her teammates came to the bar and introduced themselves to you. But you were only waiting for someone who made you feel more today than any other girl in the last couple of years. 

“So, what happened with Alexia during the match?” Patri, one of your friend’s teammates, asks you.

“Yeah! I thought it was something serious, but then I saw your teammates burst out laughing, so I didn’t worry too much. Alexia was mortified, though.” Mapi adds, making the conversations shift towards you, waiting for you to answer.

“She didn’t tell you?”

“Oh no, she didn’t. She was very frustrated; you basically turned her into a beginner.” Your friend jokes, earning approval from her teammates, praising your skills.

So you tell them what happened, to make some wince, while your friend who has known you for years now releases a surprised chuckle.

“So that is why your teammates were laughing?”

“Yes, they are assholes. You too.” 

“I’m not laughing at you.” She reassures you. “Alexia has never been that clumsy; she must have been distracted.” She raises her eyebrow knowingly.

“I wasn’t distracted; I just thought the ball was still in the air.” You see a figure approach your table, making many heads turn around to see their captain. Her aura made it evident that she was their leader. As if she had this mask on, which showed her subtle leadership, making you smirk thinking that earlier that day, when you saw glimpses of a different Alexia that probably they didn’t see.

“Good game today, Y/n right?” She extends her arm for you to shake her hand. You innocently take it, thinking that if she wanted to play the game that you were strangers and that literally two hours before didn’t grab you by your waist nor kept looking at your lips, you would comply and play her same game.

“Thank you, Alessia, right?”

“It’s Alexia.” She said, a little irritated, still keeping her hand in yours.

“Oh, sorry, you know me, still working on my Spanish.” You wink at her, with both of you knowing that you did that on purpose.

After your ‘introduction’ to Alexia, the team divided into little groups, making you sit with Mapi and Ingrid, who were the real reasons you were there, and Keira and Lucy, whom you had already met playing against them during your time at Chelsea.

“So when are you coming to Barcelona?” Your friends ask you excitedly.

“What makes you think I want you again as a teammate?” You tease her, making her face turn into a shocked expression. Making the other people at the table chuckle at your witty reply.

“Well, Barcelona has always been your dream. We were supposed to transfer together that year, but you abandoned me for Chelsea.” 

“And I still regret it to this day.” You smile sadly, playing with your food. The year you transferred to Chelsea was one of the worst years of your life; you hated talking about it. It nearly destroyed both your career and yourself. “But the past is in the past, and I still have a contract with Roma.”

“Which will expire in 2024…” Your friend suggests making your room your eyes playfully at her. Making her girlfriend give her a warning look.

“Yes. I am well aware of my contract obligations.”

“So, Y/n.” Ingrid tries to change the subject of the conversation. “Are you single? Boyfriend, OR girlfriend?” You see Alexia from across the bar subtly turn her attention towards your table, waiting for your answer, making you internally chuckle.

“Me? No. I got traumatized.” You laugh to not cry. It was still a sore spot for you; your previous relationship ended badly for you, and you would be lying if it didn't make you more adamant about beginning a new one.

You saw people give you a puzzled look, so you explained what you had just said, “I was in a relationship with this woman for more than four years, but then we ended terms badly. But now I’m great! I’m focusing on my career, and I have a dog, so I’m good!” You try to lighten up the mood; you would hate yourself if the mods of the people around you would change because of you.

“You have a dog?” Lucy asks you excitedly. You quickly take off your phone and show her your lock screen with a picture of Argo, your dog. The fact that you had a dog created a lot of attention towards you; the team swarmed your phone to see the picture, making you chuckle shyly at all the attention given to you.

As the night progressed, you and Alexia would often find each other’s eyes and would share a small smile, something that made you look forward to the next interaction that you would have with her.

You didn’t exactly know what was going on between the two of you; she was making you confused, but at the same time, she made your heart flutter whenever you caught her looking at you.

You didn’t know what it was about her tonight, but you thought she looked stunning. Maybe it was the fact that she wore this comfortableness to her actions that made you want to bask in her aura, or perhaps it was the fact that she wore her hair down, and you literally turned into a gay panic for any pretty girl. Realistically, it was more the latter option.

As many of the girls went home or went to get drinks, this left you the opportunity to be alone with Alexia for the first time in the night. When you sat beside her, she was checking something on her phone, and you decided to make the first move. 

“Hey.” You utter, almost whispering. She takes her eyes off her phone and smiles.

“Hey, you. Are you having fun with your future teammates?” She raises her eyebrows knowingly.

You chuckle, shaking your head. “Everybody thinks I’ll become a Barça player, but what if instead I’ll become a Lyon player?” You joke, both knowing that you would never do that. “But yes, I’m having fun, even though there is someone who has been on my mind all evening.”

She looks around to see if anyone is watching your interactions and then leans closer.

“Oh really? Who is this person?” 

“Well, she is very tall, at least for me, and extremely stunning, and did I mention she has a really pretty smile? Oh, She has really beautiful eyes that, if you look closely enough, you can see some shades of green here and there. And, of course, she has a very powerful left leg.”

“I’ll let you know if I find her. For now, you are stuck with me.” 

“Too bad. I really wanted to ask her something.”

“What did you want to ask her?”

“Well, a question has been burning in my mind for the whole evening.”

“Which is?”

“Wouldn’t you want to know?” You tease her as Mapi and Ingrid come back to the table and begin a conversation with the both of you about her cat; then you hear the sound of your phone; you really hoped it wasn’t your coach wondering where you were.

You didn’t expect a text from the person in front of you.

Your Favourite Kickboxer ;)

‘Meet me in the bathroom’

You look at her, slightly puzzled, but she spurs you on with her eyes. She stands up from the table and excuses herself to go to the bathroom, thus beginning your thoughts on what justification to find to excuse herself from the table.

If you said that you had to go to the bathroom too, it felt like it would be weird, but if you threw a glass of water at yourself, it would be deemed as overdoing. Amid the panic, as you feel that time is running out, you do the second option and try accidentally throwing your glass of water on your hands. For your delusional mind, you thought that your plan actually worked perfectly, whereas for the other two people at the table, it just felt confusing and unnecessary.

You quickly go to the bathroom to dry your hands when you feel two hands sneak up on your waist from behind and perfume that is completely intoxicating you. You turn around with your hands leaning on the sink and finally see the woman consuming every fiber of your being just with her gaze. It was hungry, but at the same time, it transmitted this softness that totally fucked up your brain, not understanding clearly her intentions. But you didn’t care as of right now; that would be a problem for the future you. 

“Took you long enough.” She chuckles gently, caressing your clothed waist. 

“I had to find a way to excuse myself.” You put your hands on her shoulders, eliminating more space between the two of you, turning your lips in a soft grin when you saw her hunching a little her back to better look at you.

“Come home with me tonight.” She whispers earnestly while she slots her leg between yours, coming impossibly closer to you. Only a few inches divided you from her, her lips from yours. You didn’t drink that evening but felt utterly intoxicated by her. Everything about her made you want to throw caution out the window or, given the setting, down the sink.

You couldn’t speak. At least not something coherent, so you slowly nodded. Her lips were mere centimeters from yours, making you want so badly and so needily to close that unnecessary space and finally taste her. You thought she was reading your mind because your noses touched, making her wait for you to do the final step. 

You put your hand on her chest, “As much as I want to kiss you.” She released a low moan, making you shiver and forget your train of thought. “As much as I want to kiss you because I really do.” She lets her head fall over your shoulders, lightly kissing your neck, making a shiver course through your body, filling with goosebumps in the area. “We have friends to go back to.”

“Mmm mmm.” She goes back to kissing your neck, lightly pulling your hair to move your head to give her better access, which you obviously grant her.

“Alexia.” You warn her weakly. You were really enjoying what she was doing to you.

“Ten more seconds.” She muffles while she moves her hands all over your waist, shoulders, and back, trying to take you all in, not wanting to let go of the moment.

After at least half a minute, you warn her once again. “Alexia.”

You feel her inhale by the tickling on your neck that the air to her lungs was causing. She turns her head to look at you and then quickly pecks the corner of your lips.

“I’m done.” She quickly goes out of the bathroom, leaving you frozen in the spot recounting what just happened, still feeling her hands and lips on you.

You turn around to the sink and wash your face to sober up. It didn’t work. And you went back inside the bar.

Mapi was paying the check for her and Ingrid, “Oh hey. We are about to leave. Is it okay for you?”

“Oh, don’t worry. Alexia offered to bring me back to the hotel; she told me that she had to go that way to get to her house, so it would not be a problem for her. Plus, I know you live on the opposite side of where I’m staying.”

“Are you sure? Because for me, it’s not a problem.” She asks.

“I’m sure.” You reassure her. You saw Alexia getting her stuff and yours. “I’ll see you during National Break?” You tell her, hugging her tightly, that you missed being on the same team as her.

“Don’t do anything stupid, okay?” She advises you, making you subconsciously look at Alexia, who is talking to Ingrid.

“Me? Never.”

You go to Ingrid, hug her goodbye, and tell her it was a pleasure to have met her. Then Alexia hands you your stuff. And you go to her car together.

In the car, the air filled with a kind of tension that you couldn’t quite grasp. Less than eight hours ago, you didn’t even know each other, but somehow, the ride to her house wasn’t awkward. It was full of anticipation for what was about to come. “How long have you known Mapi?” She tries to break the silence, genuinely curious about how you know her friend and teammate.

“We played for Atletico Madrid together, became fast friends, and have been in contact ever since. It was true what she said; we were meant to transfer together in 2017. We loved playing together. But then life got in the way.”

“You know, it’s so weird that our teams have played so many times against each other, even in Champions League games or Euros, but today was the first time we actually played against each other.” She points out, never moving her eyes from the road.

“Well, look how it played out.” You joke. 

“I already apologized many times, actually. But I already told you I’ll make it up to you.” She smirks, placing her hand on your thigh, drawing little shapes on your jeans.

“I wonder how.” You whisper to yourself, focusing on the hand that is right now inching closer and closer to your center.

As soon as you get to her home, and as she opens the door to her house, you make her turn around to you, and you pin her against the door; with your hands on her muscular waist, keeping her there, you go on your tippy toes, and for the first time during the night, you kiss her. It was soft and made her understand how much you wanted this, almost reassuring. You could see that she was nervous during the car ride, and you wanted to take some of it away. Honestly, you were nervous, too.

You usually weren’t one for hookups; you’d always preferred to have something serious or nothing at all. But there was something about her that made you change that idea.

You knew it was wrong, that after that night, you would probably see her again on the pitch, and knowing what you were doing now would distract you. But she was there, looking beautiful as always, clinging to you, with her hands covering your cheeks, making the consequences worth it.

“That was definitely worth waiting for.” She chuckles, putting your foreheads together. “Let’s get inside.” She utters, almost whispering, taking you by the hand and bringing you inside her home. She closes the door and pushes you to the wall, covering your body with hers. Her hands were roaming everywhere as she brought you into a searing kiss. Her perfume intoxicated your nostrils, and all your senses had become her. You lose yourself in her sensations as she picks you up from the ground as if you weighed nothing, and you wrap your legs around her. You stop the kiss to look at her. She was beautiful. She was wearing a contagious smile that contrasted her blown-out pupils; this softness of her, even during these moments, made you go crazy. 

 “Take me to your bedroom.” You whisper softly, placing a soft peck on her lips.

-

As you lay on her bed in pure carnal bliss, looking at the wall, you thought you were hallucinating. She was actually there, and this was happening, or better, it had just happened. And as you lay there, you thought you were happy. Maybe it was just her or the fact that she had just given you more than an orgasm, something that hadn’t happened for more than two years since you broke up with your ex-girlfriend. 

You were still in your head, which worried the woman lying beside you a little. She shifts to your side and puts a hand on your waist, giving you soothing strokes to ask for your attention. You turn your head, snapping out of your thoughts.

“You okay?” She wonders, furrowing her eyebrows, worried that she had taken things too far. You hated seeing that expression on her, so you kissed her lips, trying to convey all your feelings instantly.

You thought it was an awful lot of emotions for a simple hookup, but that was a problem for a future you.

“I’m great.” You reassure her, shifting, laying on her side, and indulging in some cuddling. She drew patterns on your back while you ran up and down with your fingers through the middle of her chest, making her sigh contently. It wasn’t a touch with any malicious or sexual motive but a way to touch and memorize her body. To never forget the fantastic night that she has given to you.

She brings you closer to her, and your lips meet again. It was the softest kiss that she had given you. You get on top of her, pulling her hands on your back until they reach your breasts, making her understand what was on your mind.

-

That morning, you woke up with your hair disheveled and a nasty headache. You hadn’t slept at all, and you were clearly late.

You look at the clock and curse to yourself. Alexia was still sleeping peacefully beside you, lying on her front, showing all her tattoos on the back. You caress her muscular back, trying to wake her up. This might be a hookup, but you weren’t an asshole, so you would at least wake her to tell her that you would leave, and frankly, you didn’t want to intrude; she might have places to be.

“Ale. Svegliati.” You whisper, making her twitch her eyes, slowly waking up. She opens her eyes to see her surroundings, then closes them again, and her face adorns with the most relaxed smile you have ever seen. You thought you didn’t know someone more cute than she was right now. 

“Hey.” Her voice was still raspy and low, and she had no intention to move from her position. “We fell asleep.” She points out. You were meant to leave around 2 AM to return to the hotel so that nobody would notice you were gone. But now it was too late. It was already morning, and at 10 AM, you needed to take the bus to leave for the airport.

She gets up from the bed and goes to the bathroom, still naked, making you glance at her body hopelessly. You get dressed, putting on the same clothes you had on the night before, when she gets back in the room, with clothes on this time, and sit next to you, putting some shoes on.

“So breakfast?” She asks casually, while you stare at her dumbly, not expecting that question. More expecting her to kick you out of the house. 

“Well, it’s the least you could do.” She continues, almost as if she was stating the obvious. “After all we did last night, we don’t have to act like strangers.” She explains shyly.

“How about coffee?” You offer instead, with both of you clearly not wanting to let each other go. “I really have to be back at the hotel. Actually, I should have been there two hours ago.”

“Sorry. I completely forgot to put the alarm on. Usually, I sleep in after a match.”

“Don’t worry about it. You have already made it up to me enough last night.” You joke, making her crack a smile.

“I had a really good time last night.” She hides her face, turning her head down to look at her shoes.

“Me too.” You reply, placing a hand on her knee. 

“So, coffee?” She turns to you, hopefully.

You slowly nod, standing up and waiting for her to lead. She takes you to this small coffee shop near her house with her dog. Which you finally met, as you were a little too occupied last night to properly meet her.

She brings you coffee at the table, and you fall into a very peaceful conversation that people who have known each other for a long time would have. It was as if you had just clicked. There was no awkwardness, just conversations flowing simply and carelessly. She offers to bring you back to the hotel.

You hug her awkwardly, saying you would see her again during the national break for the scrimmage against Spain, the first game after winning the World Cup.

As you quickly snuck up to your room, hoping nobody from your team would see you, you had a quick shower to wash off the night before and pack up your stuff, clearly focusing a little more on putting away the shirt you swapped with Alexia. As you looked in the mirror, you saw the heavy bags under your eyes. You were sleep-deprived, so you put some sunglasses on to hide it from your curious teammates.

As you are on the way to the bus, you reminisce the night before and mentally curse yourself for all the feelings that you put aside during the whole day for the future you, which coincidentally was you of now. 

You were the last to go inside the bus, making your teammates tease you and whistle jokingly to you, making small comments like “Rough night?” Or “Did you have fun?”

You sit next to your usual roommate, still with your sunglasses on and about to put your headphones in, when she turns to you expectantly.

“So, how was your night out.” Air quoting the last part, giving you a knowing grin.

“It was good. How was your night.” You ask innocently.

“Cut the crap! You have your sunglasses on, you didn’t come back to the room tonight, and you have a slight limp. Who is it? Is it your defender, friend? Or is it someone else from the group?” She wonders curiously, making you roll your eyes at her and sigh loudly, clearly showing her your annoyance.

“A, I did come back to the hotel! You were just asleep!” You try to sound as convincing as possible. “B, Mapi is in a relationship, and she is like my sister! I would never hook up with her!” 

“So there was someone.” She smirks.

“I didn’t say that. You’re just going crazy. Did you eat some hallucinating mushrooms? Did you think that they were normal mushrooms, but instead, they tasted strange?”

“You’re an idiot. But whatever you did last night, I hope you had fun.”

“I didn’t do anything out of the normal stuff you do when you go out with your friends. But yes, it was nice. Now I’ll sleep.”

-

It was a national break, which meant that you were in Roma, this time, to train with your fellow national teammates. After your underwhelming World Cup and Euros run, you just got a new coach to train your squad. You really hoped that she would be better than the last one.

You were on the training pitch joking and laughing with your other teammates, juggling and passing the ball to each other, when she came on the pitch, making everyone stop in their place looking at her.

As she introduced herself to everyone, you could already see that she was not there to joke around. She was serious and precisely decided her words, but she was passionate about her new job.

“We have two weeks to prepare for the friendly against Spain. I want to create a team with a good mix of experience and fresh talent. All of you are talented girls, but I want to see you in action to create an efficient and strong team.”

The three captains go up to her and introduce themselves and the squad. While you began to juggle the ball to keep your mind off the current situation. You always hated when you changed coach; you thought you needed to prove yourself to them to be accepted in the squad, making you completely doubt your capabilities.

What made you nervous was that she wanted to rejuvenate the squad. Your previous coach tried to do that, but she failed miserably. Many great players were left out of the roster that you could’ve definitely used in the World Cup, so you really hoped that her plan was better than the other’s coach, hoping that she wouldn’t take you off the roster. 

So you gave it your all in practice, trying to impress her and, at the same time, prove to yourself that you deserved to be there. Even running laps without complaining, shocking your teammates, as it had become an inside joke that you wouldn’t run even if the world was ending. Which wasn’t quite right. Yes, you hated running, but on the pitch, you gave it your all.

They called you the female version of Daniele De Rossi since you played in Roma and had his number on, and sometimes gave you the same nickname as him, Capitan Futuro, because of your leadership and tenacity, even though when people looked at your style, they were more reminded of Pirlo’s or Busquets. But he still remained your idol. 

As soon as you finished practice, you were about to leave the pitch when the coach called you to come to her, making your heartbeat from the nervousness. 

“Y/n, come here for a second.” She made you a sign with your hand, and you ran up to her.

“Hey, Mister.” You smile politely at her, crossing your arms.

“Good job today, I have to say-“

“That I didn’t make it to the team? I know. I am a very particular player, so I get it if you want to have someone that better fits your team. I get it; I’ll pack my stuff.” You ramble quickly out of nervousness.

The coach chuckles at your antiques, “Rule number 1, Y/n. Never underestimate yourself. If you think you don’t deserve to be here, then you shouldn’t.” She says seriously, making you unconsciously straighten your back.

“I know; it’s just you are known as a brutal coach who doesn’t care about others’ opinions and is known to make very bold choices. I know that I deserve to be here; I’ve always been on the starting 11 in any important match, when not injured, of course. It’s a great honor to work with you.” You praise her, trying to make up for the bad impression.

“Likewise. But I have to ask.” She begins while studying you curiously.

“Sure, ask away.”

“Why are you here at Roma when you could be anywhere else? Who can actually give you the chance to use your full potential?” She asks so directly, making you blink twice.

“What, sorry?”

“I know that Barcelona, Lyon, Chelsea, and Arsenal all wanted you and actually offered big money to Roma for you, but you always declined. I wonder why, that’s it. I just think you are wasting your prime here.”

“I have a contract with Roma until 2024, then I’ll decide my future. As for the teams, I know that they are interested. Barcelona phones my agent almost every year. But I already informed them that I won’t accept any offer until the end of the season. I feel like I would let down the club. I told them that I would be there until 2024, so I’ll be there until 2024. It’s the least I could do after everything they did for me.”

She raises her eyebrow, amused, “Well, that didn’t happen for Chelsea. I followed your career and thought you were having a great season with the club.”

“I left Chelsea for personal reasons.” You turn your head skeptically. “With all due respect, coach, why are my career choices that important?”

“I just want to understand if I am going to make the right choice.”

“What choice?”

“You, Y/n, are going to be my new team captain.”

-

As soon as you go to the locker room, you go to your three team captains and ask them for an explanation.

“You know, they want to strip off your captaincy.” You say, wearing a disgusted expression to Cristiana Girelli. “You cannot let her do that! It’s disrespectful.” You say angrily.

“Y/n, look at me. I told her I wanted to step back from the national team. I’m getting older, and my time has already come. This is a new era. And you are the perfect skipper. They call you the Capitan Futuro for a reason.”

“But what about Barbara? And Elena? They are too, the captains.” You say sadly, clearly not wanting to take their place.

“Barbara decided to step down from the national team like me. Elena thought that you were the right choice as a skipper. She’s going to be your co-captain. We’ve already arranged everything. You just have to say yes.” You always looked up to Cristiana; she was your mentor, especially in the national team. If you were the player you are today, it was partly because of her.

“Do you think I could be a good skipper?” You ask her shyly, “I’ve never been an actual captain; with Roma, I’m the third, but the actual one? Do I make the cut for it?” You hated yourself for being this insecure.

She takes you by the shoulders. “You, Y/n, transmit something when you are on the pitch that not many people do. You make the team more calm and lucid. Knowing that you are back there allows everyone to be more free on the pitch. You are our most important player, on and off the pitch. So the armband is yours. You deserve it.” She gives you a reassuring hug, “Now go back to change; you are all sweaty!”

-

As the two weeks passed, you were really happy with the coach and the team. When the team found out that you would lead them, they were ecstatic, making you a little more comfortable with your new position.

The Spanish team would arrive two days before the match, and you were happy to see Mapi again and extremely stressed out to see Alexia. You didn’t talk or text after the night that you shared together; you both followed each other on Instagram, which you were stalking daily, but you didn’t give much thought to that.

You weren’t a simp. Especially for a girl that you have seen only for a day. You had some self-respect. That is what you were trying to convince yourself to believe. So you told yourself that you would avoid her at all costs. You were the skipper now, and you had to be extremely focused.

The plan failed miserably when you asked Mapi two nights before the match to meet up at a place for some drinks. She had never been to Roma and wanted to visit the city. What you didn’t expect was for her to invite some of her teammates. It’s not the fact that there were other people with you because you loved the Spanish girls, especially the ones from Barcelona, as you had already hung out with them previously.

Still, you were really scared of meeting Alexia again. Your fear turned out to be plausible because of the five players there, Alexia was one of them.

During the afternoon, you showed the Spanish girls, Roma, while they teased you, saying that you were almost better as a tour guide than a football player. They didn’t know you were making stuff up along the way, trying to act cool and knowledgeable.

You could see that Alexia would sometimes look at you, as her gaze would pierce holes at the back of your skull, but whenever your eyes would meet, you would soon avoid her gaze. You told yourself to avoid her, and that is what you did. What was more painful, though, was that she would look like a kicked puppy, making you feel very guilty for what you were doing.

After walking for a while, the girls wanted to try the typical ‘Aperitivo’ famous worldwide, so you brought them to a little place with a great view that you knew wouldn’t disappoint. They all ordered Aperol Spritz, apart from you, making them look at you a little puzzled.

“Oh, I don’t drink that much.” You explain while Mapi raises an eyebrow and chuckles.

“Okay, I usually don’t drink during the season.” She raises her eyebrow again.

“I only drink on special occasions.” Eying Mapi for making you sound like an alcoholic.

“When we won La Liga in 2017, we went out to party, and she didn’t hold back.” She glances at her, trying to make her understand to stop talking.

“And we are done with the conversation now. So, how’s Barça?”

You begin to share stories and funny anecdotes about your respective clubs, making you really happy to have decided to spend the afternoon with them. They were a tight group, and you could see that they deeply cared for one another.

As you excuse yourself to go to the bathroom, you quickly clean your hands, thinking about some random stuff, when your thoughts were interrupted by the door of the women’s bathroom swinging, finding yourself in front of you, the person you were categorically avoiding.

“Alexia, Hi!” You say, still a little shocked. She was still at the door, clearly trying to make some space between the two of you. She closes the door and then turns to you, crossing her arms.

“Are you avoiding me?” She asks you to wear this vulnerability, which is very uncharacteristic. Making you want to do anything to reassure her that it wasn’t true and make her feel better. You hated seeing her like this. But you were avoiding her.

“I-I.” You didn’t know how to reply.

“Because it’s very annoying, especially when we decided to be civil about this and not act like strangers. If you have a problem, that’s on you.” She was irritated and had every right to be; you were acting like an asshole, and she didn’t do anything to deserve that treatment. She was about to leave when you gently grabbed her hand,

“I’m sorry, okay? I just wasn’t expecting you to be here today. And you come here looking like this. It’s not helping.”

“Looking like what?” She takes a step closer to you, wearing a proud smirk. 

“Stop looking at me like that.” She was making you go crazy; your mind was hazy, fully intoxicated by her.

“Like what?” 

“Like you’ve seen me naked.” You reply. She replies, only smirking more and raising her eyebrows. She has seen you naked, and she was acknowledging that. She was coming closer to you, making you retreat to the wall.

“Alexia…” You warn her once. She knew that it wouldn’t stop her because you were enjoying this. “We have to act like professionals.” She took you by the waist and began kissing your neck. “This. It is not professional. It’s wrong.” You barely utter, trying to contain any sign that you are enjoying this. Which you were. So damn much.

“Your heartbeat says otherwise.” She gives you a kiss where you are most sensitive on the neck. She still remembered. Making you shiver. “Your skin tells me otherwise. It’s covered in goosebumps.” She leaves a small kiss till she reaches the back of your ear, whispering, “Tell me to stop, and I will.” 

You couldn’t reply. She was right. You didn’t want her to stop. You missed how her kisses made you feel, how her perfume intoxicated all of your senses, or how her hands, warm and comforting hands would roam all over your body in search of new skin to touch. She was lighting a fire that you knew you couldn’t put out. And frankly, you didn’t want to; you wanted that fire to consume you, leaving nothing but her behind.

“We can’t hook up in here.” You state, closing your eyes, getting lost in her. 

“Are you sure?”

“Come back home with me.” You blurt out, clearly not thinking about the consequences.

“So much for acting professionally.” She winks and then leaves you alone in the bathroom once again. You really had to stop going to the bathroom when you were out together.

When you both come out, you quickly find an excuse for you to leave. Thankfully, they had the hotel nearby, so they wouldn’t have to leave by car. Alexia told them that she had to buy some souvenirs for her sister, so she was going to come back late.

-

You get to your home by car, which fortunately wasn’t that far from where you were with your friends before, and you make her quickly come in, leading her without any hesitation to your bedroom. You were a girl with a mission.

As soon as you enter the room, you push her onto the bed and get on her lap, taking off your shirt in the process. She places her hands on the back of your shoulders, finally being able to touch your skin. You sigh at her touch as if you were finally able to breathe again.

Your faces were inches away from touching, but neither of you wanted to take that step, juggling anticipation with teasing. You were the one that surrendered, whispering, “Kiss me” To her lips as they soon met yours. It was excruciatingly slow, passionate, and tender. It was the first time that you kissed since the first time, and you finally realized just how much you missed it. Maybe too much for a simple two-night stand, but again, it was a problem for the future you.

As you lay together once again, this time in your bed together, both exhausted, even though it was barely time for dinner. She was lying on her front, with the sheets draping down her body, showing her strong back. She hugged the pillow, still keeping her eyes closed, fully relaxed. You loved seeing her like this. You let yourself leave a kiss on her temple while still stroking her hair, making her smile. She took your hand and slowly interlaced it with her, then kissed the back of your hand. “Hungry?” You ask her when she nods profusely.

“What do you want to eat?”

“Whatever you have.” You go to get up from your bed, and you throw on the first shirt that you find, which was hers, and you leave the room.

“Come back quickly. I want to stay in bed with you.” She tells you, making you chuckle at her cuteness.

You quickly retrieve some cookies and Nutella and return to your room. You place the food near your nightstand and roam for a shirt in your closet.

“Do you want a shirt?” You ask her.

“Yes, please.”

You throw her one of your old shirts from when you were younger, and she puts it on right away and subtly smells it.

Then you offer her some food.

“Where did you get these? They are so good.” She asks you while taking a huge bite.

“I make them.”

“Wait, really?”

“Yeah. Usually, before a match, I get a little nervous, so I bake. It’s my way of coping with anxiety. I usually share cookies with my teammates in secret. So that our nutritionist won’t say anything.”

“These are good!” She says. “They are very similar to the ones that Mapi did once.” Then it clicks for her. “Wait. Were you the one that taught her?”

“Who do you think she got the recipe from?” You chuckle.

“Yours are better, though. Like way better.”

“I know ’cause my recipe differs from the one I gave her. Mine is the real one. My dad would always say to never give out your recipes. They are a family’s inheritance.”

“You Italians are so weird with food and so extra.” She remarks, making you playfully slap her shoulder.

“We are not extra; you Spanish people are extra with your paella and the Jamon Iberico, or ‘Patanegra.’ You can find it cheaper here, and it is just as good.”

“That’s offensive. It’s like saying that Italian food is better than Spanish.” She says, clearly trying to rile you up.

“You did not just say that!” You put your hands on her thighs, looking at her, shocked.

“I did. And I don’t regret it.” She gives you a small peck on the lips and then goes on eating her cookie.

“You are lucky that you are cute.”

“Or else what? You are going to throw me out of your home?” She remarks playfully.

“I could if I wanted to, but then I’d be here all alone, without any clothes on, without anyone to keep me company.” You pout jokingly, making your voice even more needy to make fun of her.

In a swift movement, she pins you down the mattress with her fingers running up your thigh. “Thankfully, you are not alone.” She gives you a quick kiss. “By the way, you do look good with my shirt on, but you know what would make you look even better? If you took it off. So be a good girl for me and take it off.”

It was past midnight, you were both exhausted, and you were nearly falling asleep. You were lying on her side, slowly tracing her facial features with your fingers, trying to remember every little crease and mole that made up her skin.

“What are you doing?” She smiles, feeling slightly ticklish

“I’m trying to memorize your face. For the next time, we will see each other.” You say earnestly, not stopping your caresses.

“See. You cannot say stuff like that and expect me to not have a reaction.” She chuckles lightly.

“Maybe I want you to have a reaction to my words.” You say innocently, stopping your movements to kiss her soft lips.

“What are we doing here? What are we?” She asks you, making you retreat from your position sitting up.

“I don’t know.”

“Me neither. But I like this. Whatever this is.”

“Me too. We don’t have to label it. Can we just be? Is that okay for you?”

“I’m okay with it. Now come back here.” She offers her embrace to you, which you gladly accept, burying your face in her hair while she fatherly strokes your back, making your skin full of goosebumps. You sigh contently at the sensation.

“Can I ask you something?” You move yourself to better look at her.

“What?”

“I know that we are not an item or whatever, but I was just curious as to what happened with Chelsea. You can totally tell me to fuck off, and I won’t bring up the argument again, but you are known for always being very respectful to your clubs, and you always wait for a contract to finish before transferring, so I was wondering what made you change clubs.”

“Are you asking because you care or because you want a story? Because I really don’t like to talk about it, and if you don’t care, I’d rather not talk about it.”

“I asked because I care. I ask because since I have known you, I want to get to know you. I ask because you are a great person and I care”

“Okay,” You take a deep breath, and you begin. “This is going to be a long story.” You chuckle. “What do you know about my history with Chelsea?”

“I know that you transferred there after being at Atletico, but you sent in a transfer request soon after, and you came to Roma. That’s it.”

“You don’t know the reason, though, right?”

“There were just rumors, but I don’t know anything, and I don’t tend to believe rumors, as the majority of them are false.”

“Okay. So, to begin my story, we have to go back to my college years in the US. So basically, during those years, three major things happened: I got my degree in physiotherapy, met my best friend, and got a girlfriend who also wanted to become a physiotherapist.”

You told her how she was British and how you thought she was perfect for you. “Frankly, looking back at it now, we were very toxic for each other. We loved each other very much, but it was our first real relationship both of us. And honestly, I thought that I was going to marry her; maybe it was just me who was so in love with that girl that I didn’t even know how to distinguish and understand her flaws. But again, she was my first real relationship, and she knew how to use my weaknesses against me to get me to do what she wanted. My best friend hated her; probably, that should have been the first sign. We would fight and then make up, and then she would guilt trip me into doing stuff for her.”

“That doesn’t look like a really healthy relationship.”

“Well, yeah, I was really young and dumb. But anyway, when I went to Atletico, we tried to have a long-distance relationship. She found a job as a therapist at the Chelsea women’s team, and her career too was taking off. When Mapi and I finished the contract with Atletico, and she moved to Barça, I was to move there too. I knew that Barcelona was interested, and Barça was my dream. Honestly, it still is. But then she called me, the day before deciding on my future, saying that her mom was sick and she needed me. Probably, she just wanted to be able to see me more. So I stopped waiting for Barça's proposal and told Chelsea I would transfer for them. In the beginning, I loved being at Chelsea. I have always supported the club, and I fit their style of play. My career was taking off quickly, and I was wearing myself thin. Her mom was getting worse, so my time was divided between training and hospital visits. For my ex-girlfriend, her mom was like my dad to me. So, I understood how important she was to her, and I thought that if I stayed with her mom and kept her company, my ex would be happy. That is what I would want if my dad were to be sick. I would just want him to have all the support, not caring about myself if that meant for him to improve.”

“That’s not very healthy.”

“But if it were your father, you would do the same thing too, right?”

“Yeah.” She replies sadly. “I did the same thing.”

“So I guess I started neglecting my ex a little? I think. I know she was suffering, and I knew I could’ve done more to give her the support she needed, but I didn’t. I would train, go to the hospital, and then sleep. I was exhausted and couldn’t keep up with myself and her needs. Looking back at it now, I probably would have done things differently; I would’ve tried to not wear myself out that thin.”

“You were young.”

“Yeah, I guess. So I remember that one day, and I still remember the date. Don’t ask why; I just do. Her mom was getting worse, and she was exhausted, so I thought that I would let her go to sleep while I would try to keep her mom company. As she left, I stayed with her until the time was up, and I went back home and I-“

“No, she didn’t.” She says incredulously.

“Yeah. I caught her cheating on me with one of my teammates.”

“That whore.” She replies angrily.

“Well, she eventually married that woman, so I guess not.” You chuckle at her angry expression. “She told me that I wasn’t giving her the support that she needed and that the other girl was giving it to her. I got all of my clothes and left. I was still playing at Chelsea, but then word spread out that I was the one that cheated. Everyone started to treat me differently. I didn’t play anymore; I was always on the bench, and nobody talked to me. I reached my last straw, so I requested a transfer. Barça tried to sign me; I also wanted to go there. Everything was settled; I was about to leave when they blocked the offer and allowed me to decide between two Italian clubs, Roma and Juventus. And here I am.”

“So you stayed with her dying mother, and she had the audacity to cheat on you?”

“I guess? I don’t know Alexia. So much time has passed, and I don’t want to think about it anymore. She’s happy now, I guess. Honestly, I am happy too. I am really glad though that you won the Champion’s League final against them.”

“I am even more glad, too, now.” She brings you on top of her and gives you a hug, kissing the crown of your hair. “I am glad that you trusted me enough to tell me this. I hope that you know that you deserve better than her. You deserve the world. Her actions don’t define you, and don’t even think that you deserve what she did to you.”

“But what if-“You say insecurely when she interrupts you.

“No what ifs. You did what you thought was right, and by doing so, you put yourself second to everything else. You have no right to blame yourself for what she did.” She puts her hands on your cheeks and makes you look at her. “Okay?”

“Okay.” It was incredible how she knew what exact words to say and how, by her saying them, you actually believed them somehow.

Suddenly, you felt your heart crack open for her to enter inside it. And you realized that what you had with her wasn’t just sex. It was something deeper. In so little time, she was able to heal you from your past and open up again. And that scared you, no, it frightened you.

You had built the highest walls, and for the two days you had been with her, she could make them crumble. You were feeling too much; she was making you feel too much. You wanted to run away. Clear your head. Push her out of the way and never see her again. But you couldn’t bring yourself to move from her. Her embrace was what had grounded you. You weren’t drowning in her. She was your oxygen. And you were finally surfacing up from the depths of your mind to finally heal. This realization hit you like a ton of bricks, making you do the first thing your mind could think of. Which was kissing her.

You kissed her hard and passionately, trying to convey all the emotions to her, to show her how much her words affected you. Your action caught her by surprise, but she soon adjusted to it. You trail your kisses down her chest, then to her abdomen. Praising the body of the woman who had made you feel more today than anything your ex or anyone had ever done previously. 

-

The morning after, you wake up with an arm draped around your waist, holding you down. She tightens her arm around you as you try to tangle yourself out of her embrace.

“So you are just pretending to be asleep.” You smile at her, trying to take off her strong and dead-weight arm from your body.

“Five more minutes.” She fully snuggles into you.

“I have to shower, and you have to get back to your teammates.” You try to reason with her. “And we have to have breakfast.”

“Five more minutes.” She continues.

“Okay, but only five.” She pulls herself on top of you, spurring you to play with her hair, which you do, and the five minutes turn into ten. And then you both realize that you have to get up.

You decide to shower together ‘to save water.’ You both wash each other’s hair and back, this act of intimacy making your heart swell with affection for the girl who was currently hugging you from behind. 

You both have breakfast in your little kitchen, with conversations flowing effortlessly, alternating between joking around and surfacing more serious topics.

You could not but point out to yourself that this was what was supposed to feel like when you were in a relationship with someone. But you weren’t in a relationship with her. She liked the idea of not labeling this thing between the two of you and hell, you didn’t want to complicate stuff just because of some confusing and all-over-the-place feelings.

You bring her back to the hotel, telling each other that you will see them during the match that will take place the next day.

You put your sunglasses on, which you thought maybe were your post-hookup outfit choice, and you get to the training center. It would be your last session before tomorrow’s game.

As soon as you enter the locker room, your teammates from Roma chuckle at you.

“Fun night?” They tease you.

“I don’t know what you are all talking about.” Making some other teammates look at you curiously while you showed them the finger.

“So basically, we think Y/n is hooking up with a Barça player. So now she gave us another clue: She is Spanish.”

“I’m not hooking up with anybody. And it’s none of your business; I’m your captain. Get back to train!” You say, slightly irritated.

You quickly put your training gear on, realizing you were still wearing Alexia’s shirt, and then get on the pitch.

The coach comes soon after and calls you to revise some tactics.

“So you, Y/n, if Putellas is starting, you are going to be the one that will mark her.” Her surname makes your mind have flashbacks of your previous night. “You basically annulled her in the last game, so expect you to do the same tomorrow.”

“Yes, coach.”

“If Patri starts instead, you will mark Bonmatì.”

That evening, you were nervous, to say the least. It was your first match as the Italian captain, and you really wanted it to go well. So you started baking. You baked enough cookies for an army.

So you decided to leave some for Mapi, who has always loved eating them, and your pathetic ass also saved some for Alexia in the hopes that she would come and find you after the game.

It was match day. Alexia was in the starting 11, and your parents were in the stands supporting you, and as you were leading your team to the pitch, you felt a sense of pride. 

As you go to exchange the badge with the captain of the other team, Alexia, she tries to contain a smile that was creeping on her lips.

You shake her hand and give her the Italian badge. “Hello, Captain.” You greet her.

“Hello to you too, Captain.” She replies. You finish the formalities, and then you go to each other’s respective pitches.

Today, you would give it your all; nobody would stop you.

You were all over the pitch trying to help your teammates and leading them to score, but unfortunately, the Spanish team was a force to be reckoned with, and they exploited all of the weaknesses of your team. They were world champions for a reason. Thankfully, you were able to hold off a draw.

The first time that you had to mark Alexia, it was a free kick for Spain because of an offside.

“The armband has a good look on you.” She beams at you proudly.

“Well, the star looks good on your badge.” You reply. 

“Don’t you dare try to distract me.” She warns you.

“When did I ever do such a thing?” You reply dumbly. “I should be the one warning you not to kick me!” Mapi was about to throw the ball; thankfully, it didn’t land in the direction of Alexia because seeing her again on the pitch was making you feel a little distracted, and you’d really hate it if your team lost because of one of your mistakes. 

The rest of the times you interacted with her, you would snatch the ball away from her in most cases. You were working tirelessly, trying not to concede a goal. At half-time, you were exhausted, but you had something to prove. After half-time, Alexia was getting more annoyed; she really wanted a win as it would be their first win after their World Cup.

You knew you would get subbed off at the 70th minute to give some space for subs, so until then, you would give your 100%. It was the 65th minute, and there was a throw-in for Spain. Alexia was trying to get the ball from her teammates, and with a miscalculated movement, she quickly moved her elbow, which hit your nose, making acute pain grow in the middle of her face.

“Cazzo!” You scream. You throw yourself to the ground, still in pain, smelling iron and feeling a warm liquid in your hands.

The game quickly stopped, and Alexia turned to you, kneeling and touching your scapula. 

You were mad; you had once broken your nose more than five years ago, and it wasn’t pretty, and hated when people touched you when you were irritated, so you lashed out at her. “Don’t fucking touch me.” You squirm away from her touch,

“I’m sorry.” She says regretfully.

“You fucking did it on purpose, huh? If it’s broken, don’t you dare talk to me again!” 

Your team swarms you, pushing Alexia away. 

Linari, remove your hands from your face while keeping your eyes closed. “Is there blood? Wait, don’t tell me. I don’t want to know, or else I am going to cry or faint.”

You open your eyes for a moment and look at your teammates; they all are very worried. Linari was stomping towards Alexia, screaming in her face, but you couldn’t hear properly; your mind was a little hazy from the pain. 

You look at your hands; they are full of blood, and you begin to panic. You sit up and begin touching your nose, removing more blood, but you can still feel it flowing. 

The medics were running to you. “How bad is it?”

They inspect your nose, “It’s not broken; the impact broke some blood vessels, and you burst your lip. That’s why there is so much blood.

“Can you make it stop? I want to finish the game.” You look at your coach; she signs you to come off the pitch. 

You stand up, take your armband off, give it to your co-captain, and leave the pitch. You go to your coach, who reassures you that she doesn’t want you to risk anything for a friendly

-.

The medics brought you to the physio room and gave you some ice to put on your nose. Thankfully, the bleeding stopped soon after, and you were left watching the game on the TV while waiting for your teammates. You were happy that your team was able to hold a draw. As soon as the game finished, you were swarmed by your teammates checking up on you. You told them that you were okay, and then you began laughing and joking.

They stayed there for five more minutes, and then you heard a knock on the door, and you saw some of the Spanish girls checking up on you. Your team slowly exited the room, giving the death stare at Alexia, who shamefully wouldn’t look at you.

“You okay?” Mapi asked worriedly.

“I’m good. Thankfully, it is nothing serious; the impact burst some vessels, that’s why there was so much blood.”

They stayed there for another five minutes while Alexia stayed in the corner awkwardly looking at her teammates, never looking at you. As they were about to leave, you called her to stay a little longer.

“I’m sorry if I lashed out.” You say regretfully, holding out your hand for her to grab it while pulling her near you. “I know that you didn’t do it on purpose. It’s just- I had already broken my nose and didn’t want to break it again.”

“I’m really sorry.” For the first time, she looked at you; she had this kicked puppy look that you hated seeing on her face.

She takes the ice from your hand and slowly takes it off your face to check the bruising.

“Do I look that bad?” You try to joke; half of your face is red and really swollen.

“You look beautiful as ever.” She smiles.

You blush at her words, “You just say that because you were the one that caused it.”

“You know that I got screamed at by your teammates?”

“Linari?”

“Yep, Apparently, she knows Spanish really well. Honestly, I deserve it. If my teammate got kicked and punched by the same person, I would have had the same reaction.”

“Maybe you should stop then. Cause I really don’t want to know what will happen next time.” You joke.

“Maybe we aren’t meant to play against each other.” She remarks suggestively.

“Maybe not…” You reply. She kisses you on the forehead,

“Can I kiss you?”

“Just be gentle; it still hurts a little.” She gives you a feathery kiss, so gentle and so soft that it seemed like it was just a mere graze. She lingers her lips there for a couple of seconds as if she wants to savor this moment, and you both hear the door open, and you break off the kiss, pushing her away from you. You turn around and see your tattooed ex-teammate and friend staring at both of you, shocked.

“Oh wow. That was very unexpected.” She releases a surprised chuckle. “I’ll come back another time. I just left my sweater in here before.” She retrieves the sweater and she is about to leave when she turns around to the both of you, “I have to ask, though, when did you start dating, or whatever this is?”

“We are not dating.” Alexia turns to look at her, with her shoulders high and a serious face. She was closing off.

“Yeah. We are just casually keeping each other company?” You tentatively back up Alexia’s claim, clearly not realizing how weirdly you phrased it. Alexia’s face turned quickly to look at you weirdly. “Okay, that sounded a little bad. I apologize.”

“So you are hooking up?” Mapi concludes.

“Mapi!” Alexia rolls her eyes at her.

“What? It is true!” You slightly nod, making the other team's captain roll your eyes at you, too.

“I’d rather not discuss my sex life with you! I already know that in a matter of days, everybody from Barça will know, so the less you know, the better.” 

“I would never tell anyone!” She replies, offended.

While you sit there still in the bed, observing the interaction between the two friends, clearly annoyed with each other, you could see though how much they cared and loved one another. 

“So you wouldn’t tell Ingrid, right? I swear to god, you tell everything to that woman.” 

“She’s my girlfriend!”

“Yes, but still, you can’t keep a secret for shit!”

“Well, at least I didn’t nearly break her nose and kick her in the groin.” She comments calmly, making you release a surprised chuckle, making the two girls turn to look at you but soon shift their attention to each other again.

“For the last time! I didn’t do it on purpose!”

“Okay, that’s enough. As much as I don’t care about this bickering, I think it’s enough for today.” You go to stand up, but Alexia froze you with her gaze. Making you not move from your position “Now come and hug me. I won’t be seeing you for a long time.” You open your arms, and she walks right in them. 

“Take care, okay?” She says to you.

“I will. You too.”

“Let me see if I remember correctly. Ti voglio bene?” She asks, with her broken Italian accent.

“Si, Ti voglio bene anche io.” You chuckle. She exits the room, smirking at Alexia, leaving the two of you once again alone.

“Oh, I totally forgot. Can you pass me the bag that is under the table over there?” You point the bag with your finger while she quickly retrieves it and puts it on the bed next to you, where you are sitting, with your feet dangling in the air.

You quickly open the bag and hand her a little bag. She looks at you confused and then opens it.

“I made you cookies.” You explain, making her smile excitedly at the pastry.

“Why?” She turns to you incredulously, shocked by your kindness.

“Two days ago, you said that you liked them, and yesterday night, I made a batch for the team, so I thought that you would love to have them for your trip back to the airport. I made them also for Mapi.”

Her expression changed from incredulity to shock and then a mix between guilt and thankfulness. Seeing the shift in her face, your mind is plagued with doubt. “Did I overstep? I’m sorry. I just thought you might like something to eat. I always get very hungry after a match. I should’ve asked. I’m sorry.” You ramble quickly while you try to take the bag away from her, but she tightens her grip on them.

“No, you didn’t overstep.” She reassures you and gives you a big smile. “It’s just, nobody has ever done anything like this before. Thank you, Y/n. I really appreciate it.”

“It’s nothing, really. Even though you don’t deserve them, you still can have my cookies.” You tease her.

“Thank you. Thank you for the cookies, and thank you for the kiss. I have to get back to the locker room, or other people will start to wonder what we are doing here. I’ll see you tonight?” She asks as if it was the most normal thing.

“I can’t tonight. My parents are here, they came here from home to be at the match. Plus, I don’t think that we can do anything tonight.” Circling with your finger, your face.

“I just wanted to check up on you. Can you send me a text if it gets worse, please? I’m really glad, though, that there is someone with you tonight. I don’t think I could’ve slept well tonight if I knew that nobody would take care of you when I nearly broke your nose.”

“You are worrying too much. It’s just a bruise.”

“Yeah, but I don’t bruise the people that I dat- that I care about.”

“Ohh, you care about me!”

“Shut up. Do you want me to take the cookies to Mapi?”

“Yes, please.”

“I have to go now.” She hesitates. “Can I have a hug?” She asks shyly. You make her a sign to come to you, and she gently brings you her strong embrace, lightly pecking your neck in the process.

“I’ll see you next time?” She asks, hopeful.

“Goodbye, Alexia. Have a safe flight back home.”

-

‘Are you okay? Does it hurt?’

It was the third text that she had sent you that night. Every time, you would reassure her that it was nothing, just a bruise, but she didn’t care. She would ask you to send an update about your well-being every hour. 

‘I’m okay, Alexia. Stop worrying too much.’

‘I don’t care. In an hour, I’ll send you another text.’

‘Don’t you have like other stuff to do than worry about me?’

She sent you a picture of her and Mapi eating the cookies you baked. ‘Yes, but I can multitask. Like rn, I’m eating your cookies.’

‘I’m glad that you like them.’

‘You’ll have to teach me how to do them.’

‘You wish, haha.’

“Who are you texting?” Mapi asks suggestively to her captain, seeing her smiling at her phone.

“Me? Oh, Y/n, I wanted to see if she was okay.” She replies, never taking her eyes off her phone.

“You are down bad for that girl.” She grins.

“No, I am not. We are just casually hanging out. Plus, she told me that she didn’t want to label it. To ‘just be’.”

“Well, I don’t usually bake cookies for nightstands when they nearly have broken my nose.”

“She was just being nice because I told her that I liked them when I went to her place.”

“So you didn’t have to buy souvenirs?”

“Are you really that dumb?”

“Well, well, well, I didn’t know that you had it in you to have a nightstand. Not even her, honestly.” Alexia pulls her head down, not looking at her friend sadly. “Oh my god! You like her, like her!”

“I don’t know, okay,” She says, frustrated. “In the beginning, it was just physical. But then we began talking and laughing, and I don’t know. She just makes me feel so happy and relaxed whenever I’m with her.”

“Maybe it’s just the good sex.”

“The sex is good. Like incredible. But the little moments we have after are what I look most forward to. She baked me cookies, for god’s sake; how am I supposed to compete with that?”

“Can I say something that I don’t know if it will make you feel better or not?”

“Just say it.”

“When I first met Y/n, she was this shy little girl who just came from the US. She knew very little Spanish, but she had a huge heart. We became very good friends; on the pitch, we worked perfectly; off the pitch, she was my best friend at Atletico. Everybody loved her there. We also met her girlfriend at the time.”

“Total bitch.”

“Yeah, she loved her so much, but what hurt the most was that Kate was bluntly taking advantage of her kindness and generosity. Nobody in the squad liked her. When we were about to leave for Barça together, I was so happy. It was our dream, and I loved playing with her, but then her ex called her, and she wouldn’t wait for Barça. We got into this huge fight; it was the only time I had seen her angry. And then she moved to Chelsea.

What I’m trying to say is that Y/n, is a very kind and giving person, especially to the people she cares about. She always puts herself second to others, especially when they are in need. Giving you cookies might seem like a small and weird gesture, but for her, it is just a way to make your day, even by a little, better. She wouldn’t do this for people she wouldn’t care about.”

-

The third time you see Alexia was during the Champions League game against Barcelona. Talking to your coach, you refused to mark her, so you opted to mark during the game Aitana instead. With Alexia, things were going weirdly. You started texting more since she nearly broke your nose. So now you were friends? You really didn’t know.

The day before the match, the Barcelona team was at your stadium to meet some of your teammates from each other’s national team, but you quickly ran up to Mapi and gave her a hug. She was with some of her teammates, Alexia included, talking to each other. You soon greet all of her other teammates, leaving Alexia last.

“Hey.”

“Hey.” She picks you up in the air and embraces you tightly. “You okay?” She asks you, slowly putting your feet back down on the pitch.

“I’m good.”

“How’s the nose?” She gently pinches it and moves it to see if there is any swelling.

“Stop smothering me. It’s been like six months now.” You take her hand away from you. “And don’t you dare injure me again tomorrow?”

“I’ll try my best.”

 During the last six months, clips of Alexia injuring you from your previous two matches against you went viral. People saying that she hated you or that she didn’t care. Sometimes, even in interviews, people would ask you about your relationship with her or vice versa. And the both of you would simply say that you were just, unfortunate when playing against each other and that you were actually friends in real life. 

-

It was match day, which meant that you were about to face the best team in the world, which frankly scared you a little. It was at home, so you really wanted to win or at least have a draw. 

As you are about to go on the pitch, you meet your friends from Barça in line, and you go and shake their hands to all of them.

“We are swapping shirts after this?” You ask your ex-teammate, hoping that she would say yes. 

“Sure. If I win, of course.” She replies cockily.

“We have a pretty good team, you know. I wouldn’t be so sure about a win.” You sent her a playful smirk while you walked to shake hands with Paños and then Alexia.

“Capitana.”

“Good luck out there.” She smiles, slightly lingering her hand in yours, and then the moment is destroyed by your skipper calling you back.

In the first half, you became the shadow of Aitana; she never got past you. The difference between her and Alexia was that the younger girl was much quicker and more stubborn with the ball.

“So you are not marking Alexia this time?” She asks you, still with the game going on.

“Nah, I’d rather preserve my physical well-being.” You joke, making the younger girl release a small chuckle, then go back to focus on the pitch.

Alexia was looking at your interaction on the other side of the pitch, rolling her eyes and scoffing.

The game was pretty balanced somehow. You were giving it your all, running way more than needed. You could already feel how sore your legs would be the next day, especially when you knew Alexia would be coming over tonight.

It was the 60th minute of the match, you were on the counter-attack, and you sent the perfect long ball to your number 9, and she was running to the goal. You knew that she would be swarmed by the opposing team in a matter of seconds, so you started running too, to give her some support. Your legs were hurting, but you kept on going; you would score one way or another. You were nearly at the box when Giacinti cut the ball perfectly to your right foot, and you powerfully kicked the ball off the right top bin. Everybody stopped, you stopped. All looking at the quick ball, which was currently in the air. Paños dived, but it was too late. The ball already went inside the net. 

You ran to the side of the pitch where the fans were and kissed your badge, pointing at them. This was for them. Then, all of your teammates swarmed you and hugged you.

You raise your arms to make the fans get louder to cheer for your teammates. You were winning against the best team in the world. Now, you just need to keep it up; don’t let any slip or mistake jeopardize the victory.

As the final whistle blew, you could see the disappointed looks of the other team as they registered the first loss of their season, while you just dropped to the ground exhausted. Clearly, the stress from before the match and the running and shooting took a toll on you, and finally, you were able to rest. 

“You ok?” You open your eyes to see Alexia staring at you worriedly.

“I’m good. I just need to catch my breath.” She offers her hands to help you stand up, and you gladly take them. “You were great today. No wonder you scored against us.” You thank her again and search for Mapi to swap shirts.

“So, do you still want to swap shirts?”

“Yes, of course!” She pulls her shirt and gives it to you, and you do the same. You go and hug her, “Do you want to go for dinner tonight?” She offers, while you look at her a little guilty.

“I already have plans. But for the next leg, for sure.” 

“Plans with a certain tall woman from my team?” 

“Who, Ingrid?” You tease her.

“No, idiot. Alexia.”

“I don’t know what you are talking about.” You lightly blush, looking away from her knowing eyes.

“You know damn well what I am talking about.” She points her index finger at you, smiling. “I’m really happy that two of my favorite people started dating.”

“We are not dating.”

“If you say so!”

“I know so!” You saw all of your teammates leave for the locker room, “I have to go. Take care, okay? Don’t do anything stupid. Ti voglio bene.”

“Ti voglio bene. And you, too, don’t do anything that I wouldn’t do.”

“So you would fuck Alexia?” You began laughing.

“Eww, no. I’ll leave that to you.”

You playfully roll your eyes at her and then quickly hug her. “Bye, Mapi.”

“Bye.”

You quickly go to the locker room, but the UEFA people told you that you had just won the MOTM, so they wanted to give it to you. You pose for the picture, leave to change, and get ready for the night. You were exhausted. You kept yawning and barely kept your eyes open. But that night, you were going to see Alexia, and you really didn’t want to disappoint her. 

That night, you picked her up from her hotel to get to your place; you were having a really relaxed and enjoyable conversation when you got inside your house and led her to your bedroom. You sat on her lap, and as you were about to kiss her for the first time in nearly six months, you yawned. 

“Are you sure you want to do this? You look exhausted. Do you want to sleep?” She asks you worriedly, stopping you from doing anything else.

“No, no, I’m good. I don’t want to waste your time. I’ll be fine.” You go to kiss her, but once again, she stops you. She starts rubbing your thigh, soothing your aching muscles, making you close your eyes in relaxation.

“You are not wasting my time, cariño. I’m just happy to see you. We haven’t seen each other in nearly six months. We can just sleep if you want. We don’t have to do anything if you are not up to it.”

“I really like it.” You leave a small kiss on her nose.

“What?”

“The nickname, cariño.” You explain, feeling a warmth spreading in your chest. It had been some time since anyone had given you a nickname.

“Sorry, it just slipped.” She says, slightly blushing.

“I love it. Is it a problem for you if we just sleep? I’m really exhausted.”

“I’m okay with that. I’m really tired, too.”

“At what time do you leave tomorrow?”

“Not until in the afternoon.”

“Do you maybe want to stay tonight?” You ask shyly, tucking your head in her neck.

“There’s no other place that I would rather be.”

She makes you stand up, searching for something while you look at her confused.

“So, do you have any fresh clothes to change in? I don’t think you want to sleep in jeans.” She asks you while you point at your closet. She opens the first drawer and chuckles. 

“Is that my shirt?” She throws it at you, making your face turn pink.

“Well, it’s comfy, and it smells like you. Correction: It smelled like you. Now it’s just the fabric’s smell.”  

“I thought you had thrown it away.” She remarks sadly, throwing at you a pair of shorts.

“Why would I do that?”

“I don’t know.” She insecurely looks at you, changing the topic. “Can I borrow some shorts?”

“You can borrow anything you want.”

She takes a pair of shorts from your drawer and leaves to the bathroom to give you some privacy, which you thought was unnecessary as she has seen more of you than most people.

She returns to your room and lays down on your bed, making grabby hands for you to join her. You gladly do, sighing as you fall in her embrace, finally relaxing.

“Can I have a small kiss?” You ask her as you put your hand on her chest, quietly feeling her heartbeat.

“Ummm. Let me think about it.” She jokingly puts her hand on her chin, pretending to think. “Just one.” 

“Only one? You are making me work for them?” 

“Yep.” She pulls you for a slow kiss that takes your breath away. You hadn’t been kissing this woman for nearly half a year, and only now you realized how much you missed it. How much you missed her. As you finish the kiss, you both look at each other, “Okay, maybe another kiss.” You smile into the kiss as once again your lips met hers, and this time you melt into the kiss and break it off until you need to breathe again. 

“Buonanotte, Alexia”

“Goodnight, cariño.” You snuggle into her as she tightens her embrace, making you feel safe for the first time since you were little.

The next morning, you wake up with an empty bed. You sit up sadly, thinking Alexia left without saying goodbye or having breakfast. You leave your room and go to the kitchen to get some coffee, and there, you see her. She was rummaging through your cupboards when you walked to her and hugged her from behind.

“Good morning.”

“Good morning, cariño. Did you sleep well?” She feels her relax in your embrace while you snake your hands under her shirt, gently scratching her abs.

“Really, really well.” 

“I’m glad.”

“What are you doing?” You ask her, peeking with your head around her back.

“I’m trying to understand how this thing works.” You turn to see that she has it in her hands, a Moka.

You chuckle, gently pushing her to the side, taking it from her hands, and unscrewing the top of the coffee maker. You prepare the moka, and then you put it on the stove. In the meantime, you go to retrieve some mugs; they were on the highest cupboard, so you had to stand on your tippy toes to get the mugs, but your lover? Could you call her that? Walked behind you while putting a hand on your side and retrieved them for you, making you want to giggle at the action.

“Showing off your height, are we?”

“Me? Never. I’m just helping out my short queen.”

“Oh wow. How chivalrous.”

You both sit down at your little table and bring a piece of cake from your fridge.

“Do you want a piece?” You offer, getting a piece for you.

“Did you make it?”

“Yes, I did. Yesterday morning. It’s still good.”

“I swear to god, Y/N. You’ll get me out of shape if you keep feeding me.” She remarks jokingly, taking a bite from yours.

“Hey! That was mine!” You smack her hand away from your little plate, offended.

You stay together for another hour, and then you go back to the hotel very reluctantly. You didn’t know what it was, but something shifted that night between the two of you. You didn’t know if it was because you hadn’t seen each other in so long or because there were a lot of unresolved and unspoken feelings between the two of you. But when you said goodbye to her this time, it felt sadder and more longing.

You didn’t want to leave her side, nor did she, for that matter. You gave her a last kiss. She called you for the last time, cariño, and then she left. Leaving you this weird feeling lingering in your chest that you couldn’t quite pinpoint.

-

In the second leg of the Champions’sChampion, you didn’t play as you got injured two days before. It was nothing major, but it still stopped you from playing the match, which you really wanted to. You knew this would be your last season in Roma, and you wanted to bring your team to new heights.

As soon as the whistle blew, your team lost 2-0, and you felt a wave of sadness come over to you. And that was where it really hit you. This would be your last season at Roma, last season with the girls. You went on the pitch with your crutches, picking your teammates up from the ground and consoling them, trying to keep your own emotions at bay. Your team soon huddles up, and your coach makes a speech, but it was all a blur for you. You shut yourself off completely and left immediately after the pitch. 

You go inside the hallway away from the cameras and push your back to the wall, resigned. You didn’t cry. But you needed to isolate yourself and not show any weaknesses to your teammates. At least one of you needed to be strong.

“Cariño?” You hear a soothing whisper while hands cover your face. You recognize the warmth of the hands, which make you bask in contact. “Are you okay?”

“Alexia, what are you doing here? You should be out celebrating with your teammates. You got into the quarters.” You slightly push her away.

“Don’t push me away, please. What do you need?”

“I need a hug, please. Can you hug me?” Your eyes twinkle wetly with a vulnerability that Alexia has never seen before.

She quickly acquiesces to your needs and brings you in a tight hug. Your head was on her chest because of the height difference, and you could feel her heartbeat soothing and giving a rhythm to your brain. She began placing small kisses on the top of your head, and her hands rubbed your back to give you as much comfort as possible.

“Are you okay?” She whispers worriedly.

“I just realized that this will be my last Champions League with Roma and my last year with my teammates. I just feel a little vulnerable. But I’ll be okay, eventually.”

“Let’s get you home.”

“Alexia. I will be no good company tonight. When I am sad, I only watch romance movies or listen to sad songs. It’s not pretty. And you don’t have any obligation towards me.”

“I know, but I still want to. We can do all those things that you listed together. Let me take care of you.” She offers, smiling earnestly at you, making it impossible for you to say no.

“Okay, but if at any time you want me to go, I’ll leave. I’d hate to be a burden.” She rolls her eyes at your stubbornness. 

She kisses your forehead. “Give me five minutes, and I’ll be with you.” She left quickly to her changing room, making you smile dumbly at her. At that specific moment, Mapi casually walks past you, rolling her eyes. “Definitely just hooking up.” She says ironically, leaving without the opportunity to say anything else.

Alexia was back to you in precisely five minutes and ready to leave. Meanwhile, you told your teammate that you would leave alone and be back tomorrow morning, to which she replied with a very suggestive smirk. You honestly really weren’t hiding anymore the fact that you were hooking up with a Barcelona player. All the team basically knew it, also your national team, so it was no surprise.

-

You get to her home, and she soon gives you some of her clothes to make you more comfy and then makes you sit on the couch and gives you a small blanket. Her little dog, Nala, sat on your lap, asking for cuddles. It was almost perfect, it just needed-

“Do you need something else? Do you want some food? Something to drink?” She was acting all serious, and while you just beamed at her, you realized that nobody had ever wanted to take care of you like she was doing right now. Your heart exploded with affection for the woman who was currently making herself so available to your every need.

“I just need you. Can you hold me, please?” She quickly sits on the couch and waits for you to come to her. “Watch out for my leg; it’s still injured.” You lightly warn her so she would make any movements towards your leg.

Your head was on her chest, some romance movie was playing in the background, and she was whispering sweet nothings in your ear, trying to lighten your fragile mood.

“So this is going to be your last year at Roma? You are not renewing?” You shake your head.

“So, where are you going?”

“Is that really a question when you already know the answer?” You tell her you weren’t looking at her face, but you could feel her face adorn with another one of her beautiful smiles.

“You are moving to Barcelona?” She asks, clearly trying to hide her excitement.

“Nothing is official yet, but I already talked to your coach. If everything goes to plan, we will be teammates. But don’t say anything to Mapi. I want to give her a surprise.”

“So we will play together? On the same team?” 

“Si, piccola mia. We will play on the same team.”

“I guess we were never meant to play against each other.” She chuckles jokingly.

“I guess not. I think we were destined to play together.”

[putellasawfc]

Hey, loved your latest fic! Don’t know if you’re taking requests but if you are could you do one with Lucy Bronze where you play together at England and have been dating for years? Maybe you used to play overseas (at Barca maybe?) and now you’ve moved back to the uk to play for Chelsea. Reader has fight with Katie McCabe in a Chelsea V Arsenal game and people online start shipping them and saying they’ve got sexual tension on the pitch and Lucy gets jealous/possessive. Obvs only if you wanna write it. Love your writing! <3

twitter fingers !

lucy bronze x chelsea!reader

-

as you stood on the pitch with the rest of the chelsea girls, awaiting the whistle that would commence the game, your eyes wandered to the sea of colours in the crowd, seeking the presence of one person specifically. it was a rare occurrence that your girlfriend managed to attend one of your games in person, but with an england game three days away, lucy had flown in the previous day, thus meaning she was able to be here today. which you were over the moon about. you always argued that you managed to play better when you could hear her cheering for you in the crowd.

it didn’t take long for you to find her, with her hair in its usual bun and a dark blue chelsea shirt on her shoulders, you grinned at the vision, feeling a little giddy when you remembered that she currently had your last name sprawled along her back. the woman in question eventually looked up from her drink and quickly set her sights on you, a matching smile adorning her bare features. she raised her hand, two of her fingers interlocked, letting you know she had her fingers crossed for you to win, and successfully earn an extra three points that you needed. you quickly blew her a kiss in response, and just in time as the whistle sounded not even a second later and the ninety minutes began.

-

the first forty five minutes went by pretty quickly, both teams had equal opportunities to score a goal but none yet had been made which was both a relief and frustrating (especially when you watched lauren james’ shot bounce off the crossbar, just an inch away from flying into the back of the net), but you still had four minutes of extra time to get a goal before you went in for halftime. something you were determined to achieve, wanting to give your team something to boost their confidence before you all came back out again. so when the ball fell at your feet after being passed to you by jessie, you ran forward with it towards the arsenal goal with determination.

infuriatingly, just as you had gotten yourself in the perfect position to shoot for the goal, a foot slid beneath your feet causing you to stumble in your spot and fall on your side with a groan. the ball flew forward off to the sidelines and you watched it go with furrowed brows, returning your gaze to the culprit who had tackled you to the ground, in your opinion, unfairly. when your eyes landed on the irish brunette, you weren’t surprised that it was katie mccabe of all people who had sent you flying to the ground, she did have a reputation for being an aggressive player after all. she didn’t even bother to check if you were okay, which didn’t shock you really but you couldn’t stop yourself from scoffing in disbelief.

instead, it was mia who lent you a hand, one which you gratefully took as you forced yourself to your feet.

“you good?” she questioned, her spare hand clamping down on your shoulder.

you nodded, “yeah, thank you.”

she smiled, patting you on the shoulder twice more before jogging away, both of you getting back into position as you waited for the ball to be thrown in so the game could continue.

-

halftime came with no goal from either side, after your close call at shooting for the net, mccabe had been breathing down you neck and it was beginning to bug you. yes, you understood that it was literally her job to watch her opponents and make sure they don’t score any goals, but christ she was practically standing on your feet at this point, you barely got a breather. you were half tempted to push her to the floor and take the yellow card if it meant she’d get the message and leave you be. something you had expressed to your squad at halftime.

“don’t let her get to you like that, that’s what she wants.” millie had gently nudged her shoulder against yours as you drank from your bottle.

“wouldn’t surprise me.” sam piped up. “think you scared her when you almost scored, she’ll be doing it on purpose to antagonise you so you eventually retaliate and get sent off.”

you took their words into consideration, knowing they were most likely correct. “i know, i know. it’s just really pissing me off, she’s like my shadow! always in the corner of my eye like we’ve been handcuffed together or something.”

they laughed at that, and you couldn’t help but smile too at your own exaggerations.

“maybe if you pay her no attention she’ll get bored and move onto someone else.” ashley suggested, leaning against the wall opposite the one you were leaning on.

you sighed and nodded, placing your bottle back down with the rest. “yeah that sounds like the best idea. either that or i kick the ball straight in her stupid face and knock her out cold … can’t follow me around then.”

“oi! none of that now.” emma called out and you winced at being caught by your manager, turning around in your spot to glance at the blonde woman who was staring you down like a parent would a naughty child.

“i was only joking.” you muttered sheepishly, “promise.”

“yeah, you better be joking. can’t have any of you getting any red cards now.” she told you, ruffling your hair to show she wasn’t mad, but she was being serious. “ashley’s right, just ignore her. she doesn’t need to know she’s upsetting you or else she’ll thrive off it.” she wrapped an arm around your shoulder, “now come on it’s time to get back out there.”

-

ten minutes into the second half and your patience was running out, fast. it was as if katie’s mission for the match was to get to you, and you were beginning to think that her manager may have actually assigned her to piss you off until you exploded.

every step you made she was either behind or in front of you, everywhere you looked you saw a flash of red and the number 15 in your line of sight, everytime you miraculously managed to gain possession of the ball, her foot was sliding between yours and kicking it away either off pitch or to one of her own teammates and you had about enough at this point. she was making you feel like a useless player, like there was no point having you on the pitch anymore. you couldn’t move anywhere, and everytime the ball entered your personal space, you acquired it for about ten seconds before it was gone again.

you received many sympathetic looks from a few of the chelsea girls the longer it went on, they had heard you ranting and raving at halftime so they knew you were beyond fed up at this point. you had even gotten a pitiful look from alessia russo, one of the arsenal girls and your fellow lioness. even she could sense your forever growing agitation at the situation.

fifty seven minutes in and you were spared a couple of seconds to catch your breath, the ball had been kicked out of play and caitlin foord was waiting for it on the sideline so she could throw it in as it was an arsenal ball. waiting patiently, you couldn’t help but spare a quick glance to the crowd watching, where you knew lucy was sat. your eyes met instantly as the barcelona player was already eyeing you up with her bottom lip tucked between her teeth and her elbows resting on her knees. not being stood too far away from where she was seated, you were able to see the wink she sent you when she realised you were now looking back at her, one which made you grin as the stressful match you were partaking in flew to the back of your mind for a split second.

you knew that even when she wasn’t present at any of your matches that she was backing you all the way. if she wasn’t busy with her own club, she’d call you, or facetime you before any games you had and give you a pep talk. telling you how amazing of a player you are, how proud she was of you and how she knew you were gonna be great. and even if she was busy, you could guarantee a quick message at some point. whether it was before a match or during halftime, or even a message after from her talking about how good you were on the pitch (if you were benched for any reason she’d tell you she couldn’t wait to see you back on for the next game), but to have her here in person, real flesh and blood, was one of the best feelings.

it relaxed you in a sense, knowing that no matter how the game went, good or bad, that you’d have her there to praise you or comfort you with not only her words but also her touch. she’d shower you in hugs and kisses, give you a massage if needed, and spoil you rotten whether that be with affection or a cute little night in that she’d set up. it was something you’d always look forward to when your plans aligned and you’d end up in the same country, which unfortunately didn’t happen as often as it used to when you were signed at barcelona yourself.

a whizz of blue flying past you in your peripheral vision pulled you from your lovey dovey thoughts, and you realised that ball had been thrown back into play. getting back into the right mindset, you chased after the ball which was currently at the feet of steph catley, as she looked for someone to pass it to. wanting to get into a position where you might be able to intercept the ball and gain possession, you were quick to move, running a meter infront of the arsenal player. but just as you predicted, as soon as you were about to jump forward and reach your foot out for the ball that was currently rolling at some speed towards another arsenal player, a player you had become very familiar with this game pounced.

her body barged into yours with force, the velocity sending you falling backwards with a thud that shot pain spiralling down your spine as you coughed at the sudden collision with the ground. the whistle blew and you rolled onto your side to relieve some of the discomfort you were feeling, just grateful it had been your back that had taken the brunt of the fall and not the back of your head. players approached you to ensure you were okay, as well as the ref who stood at a short distance watching you carefully. you were pulled to sit up by sam, who kneeled down on the grass beside you.

“you okay? do you need medics?” she asked, her eyes swimming with concern.

you shook your head, stretching your back with a small groan. “no, just gonna hurt like a bitch later i think.”

she nodded at that, glad to see you weren’t suffering too bad. but both of your attentions turned to the commotion that began to take place to the side, a pissed off looking katie glared at the ref who now held up a yellow card in her hand. finally.

“are ya fuckin’ havin’ a laugh? there’s nothing wrong wit’ her! look!” she shouted, her irish accent thick as she pointed towards you sat on the ground.

you frowned at that, pushing yourself up with a little help from sam before you moved to stand infront of katie, “you could’ve given me a concussion! you can’t just barge into people because you feel threatened by them.” you spat.

katie, clearly not liking what you were saying or how you were speaking to her was quick to jump to her defence. she took a few step towards you, in what you assumed was an attempt to intimidate you but with yourself standing a few inches taller than the woman, you couldn’t help but scoff.

“a concussion? i barely touched ya, ya just thought if you rolled around like a ditz you’d get a free kick or somet.” she laughed, though it lacked humour.

by now players from both teams had come to stand between the two of you, wanting to put some space between you both before something stupid happened.

you rolled her eyes at her accusation, throwing her a dirty look. “i don’t play dirty like you mccabe.”

that was the last thing you said before you were led off by lauren, the james sibling held onto your upper arm with a gentle grip. “crazy girl that one.”

you hummed in amusement, “yeah, think she’ll back off now she’s got a yellow?”

the striker nodded instantly. “oh yeah. unless she’s wanting to get sent off, but i can’t see that happening.”

you nodded in agreement, giving the girl one last smile before you walked off to an empty space just a few feet away ready to get back into action. now, without katie at your feet with every second that passed, you were feeling more confident within your abilities and were eager to help your team get the victory you had been craving ever since the first whistle.

-

ninety eight minutes had been played overall, and your team was victorious in the end. with a 2 - 1 finishing score, you guys were very happy with the result. you knew going into the match that this was going to be a close game, something that had pushed you to push yourself beyond your usual best at training and thankfully so, as it seemed all your hard work had paid off in the end. even if you were hoping for a bigger gap in the win, you did win at the end of the day.

you had just finished doing your rounds at the stadium, greeting fans and taking pictures with those who asked, as well as signing shirts and giving away your own shirt to a little girl who held a sign that told you it was her eleventh birthday and all she wanted was your shirt - how could you say no to that? you were just giving a few hugs to the arsenal girls, praising their efforts when a weight pressed on your sides and you swivelled your head around in surprise, coming face to face with a grinning lucy.

you grinned back at her, wrapping your arms around her neck and pulling her against you in a tight hug, her welcoming the embrace immediately.

“congrats gorgeous. knew you could do it.” she pressed a kiss to your temple, and you melted at the affection.

“thank you.” you hummed, echoing her actions and pressing your own kiss to her temple. “sorry, i probably stink right now.”

she laughed at that, running her hand up and down your back. “yeah, just a bit.”

you pulled away from the hug with a playful roll of your eyes, noticing the way your girlfriends face fell serious for a brief moment.

“you alright though? look like you had a bad fall earlier.” she asked, her hand moving to massage your shoulder.

you sighed and nodded, “yeah, i’m alright. just have to be careful next few days i suppose.”

she nodded at that, and you both began the journey to the showers, eager to get clean so you could leave and head home with your girl. “was kinda sexy seeing you get in mccabe’s face like that.”

lucy’s admission had you laughing in surprise, eyeing her up with a look of pure amusement. “really?”

she nodded, eyebrows furrowed like she couldn’t believe you thought she could be joking. “yeah! course. never see you get like that, must be my lucky day.”

“mhm, something like that.” you beamed.

-

the next morning came by sooner than you had liked, the light finding it’s way into your room through the cracks of your curtains was enough to bring you from your slumber with a groan. you stirred in bed for a little bit, stretching out your tired limbs and running your fingers through your slightly knotted hair as you began to wake up properly. it was when you finally came to, that you noticed the familiar weight beside you that kept you warm during the night was not present, the realisation had you cracking open an eye to see if your suspicions were true. and true they were.

the only thing to your left was an empty spot that your beloved girlfriend occupied on a night, and sometimes during the day too. you frowned, pushing yourself up onto your elbows as you encouraged yourself to slip out of the warm cocoon you were clinging onto, to go and find lucy who should’ve been laid beside you, tickling your back and whispering sweet nothings into your ear in an attempt to wake you up. eventually you came to the conclusion that the pros outweighed the cons, and moved to stand with a wince as your bare feet met the laminate flooring that held a slight chill to it. not wasting anymore time, you continued on your way and began exploring the house for the older woman.

the bathroom was free, the door left open and the light off with no signs of life within. so you ventured downstairs, checking the living room that was also empty, as was the kitchen and the downstairs bathroom. eventually you made it into the dining room, beginning to think lucy had left the house without saying anything, something that was unusual to you as a couple as you usually let eachother know if you had to be anywhere the next morning.

just as you were about to give up, hand already reaching for your phone in your dressing gown pocket to call the footballer, a movement in the back garden caught your attention and you turned to the patio doors that were opposite the dining room table. there lucy was, sat at the patio table with her own phone in her hand and a noticeable frown on her bare features, looking troubled by whatever she was seeing on her mobile screen. you smiled in relief, knowing where you girlfriend was causing the minor stress that had built up to melt away in an instant.

you made your way to the sliding doors, pulling them open which had lucy looking up from her phone at the sound, you smiled at her when she made eye contact, but the gesture faded when she didn’t return it. okay she’s not in a good mood.

“hey you.” you spoke, shivering slightly at the morning chill that hit you through the layers of clothing you had on. “how come you weren’t next to me when i woke up this morning?”

you sat beside on her the empty chair, growing even more confused at her peculiar mood when she refused to make eye contact with you. “just couldn’t fall back asleep. thought it’d be better to come down instead of waking you up.”

“but you always wake me up when you can’t sleep.” you pouted. which was true.

usually, no matter what, lucy would usually prod and poke you when she was unable to sleep. whether it was because of a bad dream that had woken her, she was feeling restless or was stressing about something. she’d always pull you from your sleep and force you to keep her company even if you spewed a variety of excuses and complaints her way.

“i didn’t wanna bother ya.” she mumbled, still scrolling through her phone without a glance in your direction.

you eyed her for a moment as silence washed over you both, noticing the furrow of her brows and the clenching of her jaw, both signs that she had something brewing in her head, something that she didn’t want to share with you. moments like this were tricky. lucy was someone who would shy away from any attempt at trying to get into her head to figure out what was going on. if you went too far she’d pull back, try to build her walls back up and avoid you for awhile, which you had learnt at the beginning of your relationship. but now, four years later you liked to think you had a better understanding of the woman you were sure you were going to marry one day. which meant you had a better chance of getting her to open up to you, you just had to go about it the right way.

“i know there’s something bothering you, i can read you like a book you know.” you told her, noticing the way her thumb paused mid scroll. “and if you didn’t wake me up to talk to me about it you’re obviously not ready to talk about it yet, and i won’t push you. but you know i’m here, yeah? always. i love you so much, and i don’t want you suffering in silence at whatever’s got you so closed off today.” you leant over the glass table and pressed a gentle peck to her cheek, careful of the glasses that knocked into your own cheek. “always here for you, no matter what. don’t forget that.”

the defender remained still for a moment and you waited patiently to see if she made any move to let you in, finally tell you what was plaguing her mind. and it only took a total of two minutes for her to finally lock her phone and place it down onto the table, a hand running down her face as she shook her head.

“it’s silly really, i just let my mind go into overdrive and it hasn’t stopped since i got outta bed.” she told you, her hand reaching out to grip onto yours.

her cold rings met your bare skin, the temperature difference sending a small shiver down your spine. “well maybe you’ll feel better if you get it out.”

she sighed, her blue eyes lowering to the trainers on her feet as she debated on how to even start. “i just, decided to check my phone this morning and people on twitter were saying stuff and it’s put me in a mood.”

“oh luc.” you frowned, hand squeezing hers in a comforting gesture. “you know you shouldn’t listen to what people say online. they don’t have anything better to do than sit back and put down people to make them feel better about themselves.”

“no, no. it’s not anything like that.” she reassured you, and you furrowed your brows.

“then what is it?”

“people were talking about the game yesterday. saw some say that you and katie had some sexual tension thing going on during the match. with the fight and everything. and then a bunch were agreeing and saying you’d make a good couple, that you’d be fit together. as if we haven’t been in a very public relationship for the last few years.” she grumbled, an annoyed grimace settling onto her face towards the end.

you let the newfound knowledge settle in, not really surprised with what people were saying online. you’d seen it happen often with the women in your line of work. for some reason, whenever two girls were a little cozy together infront of the camera, whether it be a simple hug or a hushed conversation, or even just a smile sent in another’s direction, social media seemed to go wild with accusations and theories about whether or not they were dating. you’d been taught by a few players back when you first made it big to not let it get to you, or else it would ruin friendships that you held near and you didn’t want that.

“let them say whatever they want to babe, you know where my love lies and that’s with you.” you told her, meaning every word with every bit of your heart. “they don’t know me, or us, or even katie for that matter. by the end of the week i bet they’ll have all moved onto some other wild theory, you know what imaginations can do.”

you stood up from your chair and moved to sit down on her jean clad thighs, manoeuvring your body so that you were sat sideways, your feet hanging in the air. you ran your hands through her hair that was hanging down by her shoulders, free from any hair band or clip which was a rare luxury with how often she was either training or playing on the pitch. when her body relaxed and her eyes drooped slightly at the feeling of your nails scratching at her scalp just how she liked it, you grinned and leaned forward to connect your lips with hers, giving her three short but sweet pecks.

“i love you silly girl. don’t let anyone let you doubt that, especially people who don’t even know us.” you told her, your voice stern but still gentle so she knew you weren’t mad or upset.

“i know, ‘m sorry. i love you too, to bits. just got in my head a bit, you know how i am.” she rubbed your thighs with her hands. “and i don’t really enjoy the thought of you with anyone else.”

your eyebrow quirked at that, a teasing smile now on your face. “jealous were we, miss bronze?”

she rolled her eyes playfully, fingers digging into your thighs now which made you squeal at the ticklish feeling. “maybe a tad.”

“oh just a tad? so you wouldn’t mind if i messaged katie right now? asked her if she wanted to play on these fantasies that are brewing on twitter?” you asked, with absolutely no intention of doing so.

“you wouldn’t dare.”

“hmmm, might have to. after all you did have me waking up to an empty bed this morning, no way to treat your lady.”

you squealed in surprise as lucy rose to her feet, her grip on you tightening as she held you bridal style in her arms. your own hands gripped at her shoulders, and you looked at her with your mouth agape in shock.

“lucy!”

“you want me to show you how i treat my lady? gladly.” she told you, her lips dangerous close to your own, the small gap and the meaning behind her words leaving your heart racing in your chest.

-

it was no surprise when you awoke from your afternoon nap, the long morning you’d spent rolling around under your sheets with a very eager lucy having worn you out, that the first thing to pop up on your phone when you looked at it was a notification.

lucybronze tagged you in a post.

the post being two pictures from the previous day. the first one was the back of the chelsea shirt she was wearing, showcasing your last name, her built frame and her infamous bun, making it very obvious who it was wearing the shirt. and the second was of the two of you on a date, the night lucy had flown in at a restaurant you frequently visited together. you were sat beside eachother in a booth, cheesy grins on your face and a drink in both of your hands.

you admired the pictures with a grin similar to the one staring you back in the picture, heart warming at the sight of your girlfriend looking so happy to be with you. your eyes flicked to caption and you couldn’t hold back the eye roll at the words she had written.

lucybronze glad to be reunited with my love. can’t wait to spend the next week together - on and off the pitch.

[pixiesfz]

Leah Williamson x reader

plot: y/n y/l/n is Chelsea royalty, a royal that is holding one big secret. (lets also pretend Leah never got injured)

warning: suggestion of smut, lust, angst, kinda long

It's derby day and you were lined up in the tunnels you were behind Sam who held a straight face, but you were secretly searching for a certain blonde, and when you did she sent a silent smirk which you rolled your eyes at. 'Good luck' you mouthed and she sent a wink back 'You too' she mouthed and you both smiled, thankfully not getting noticed by anyone (or so you thought) Sam slightly nudged you gaining your attention.

"What?" you asked and she looked at you "you good?" she asked and you nodded "always" and the Australian smiled slightly "good then".

You furrowed your brows at your teammate who was silently laughing to herself "I see your shoulders shaking Sam what is it?" you asked and she turned around to you and nudged her head towards Arsenal vice-captain "I just wanna see what type of scrimmage you and Williamson come up with today" she shrugged and you laughed "last time was hilarious, then at the club later when she went up to you- hilarious, you left after though before we could rip into you" Sam laughed a bit more "yeah I just got really tired" you told her.

You did not go home that night.

"This is so wrong" you breathed out as the blonde kissed down your neck, her hands roaming around your hips "Oh yeah?" Leah rebutted as she lifted her head up, she didn't lean back as your lips were practically connected.

"Then stop me."

You wanted to stop her, your clubs were rivals and you were both never going to leave said clubs. But with the way her breath was fanning over your neck you lost all control.

"Don't stop"

A confident smile spread over the blonde as she brought her lips to yours again, it was passionate like she thought it was never going to happen again.

But unfortunately, it did, again, again and again.

That's when you two decided to go on secret dates, movies with hoodies on that were immediately taken off when you got home to her apartment.

Then you two had almost gotten caught.

It was at training, you had dropped your house keys that now had an added key for Leah's apartment and Jessie Fleming picked them up for you, noticing that there were more keys than usual.

"1, 2 and 3 oh my goodness y/n/n who's house does this key belong to!" she half shouted which gained some of the team's attention as you blushed "my parents moved" you quickly came up with an excuse as you grabbed the keys from Jessie's hands "and I'm going to see them tonight" you pointed her brows at her which made her drop the situation.

"you never have anything fun happening in your life" she pouted before turning away, earning a laugh from the team.

oh only if she knew.

You weren't the only one in the relationship that had almost gotten caught, Leah had once too.

"Leah that girl has been checking you out for twenty minutes now, go talk to her" Katie told the blonde who chuckled, not even looking at the 'admirer' before answering "not my type" she shrugged and Katie gasped.

"You're seeing someone!" she accused, her Irish accent shining through.

"No, I am not" Leah scoffed "Then go talk to the girl" Caitlin piped up as she leaned into Katie, the Irish girl wrapping her free arm around the Australian's waist.

That's what Leah wanted, she knew you yearned for it too.

"And lead her on, no thank you" Leah laughed before walking past the couple. "I'm going home" she announced with a smile before walking out to get into a cab to yours.

Months of secrecy and now your clubs were to vs again. A rough tackle by Leah last time and your 'valid' reaction were what got you two red-carded at your last game and what now led you both to a secret relationship...weird now that you think about it.

When the game started Leah was on the other side as Jonas put her in an attacking position for the first half.

Arsenal was winning and you cursed to yourself, you were a competitive person and obviously wanted to win but it didn't look to good for the blues.

You had chances to score but their goalkeeper was good today which even made you angrier "fuck" you whispered as Manu saved another one of your shots "she's never this good" you whispered to Sam who nodded "someone must've lit a fire under her ass"

Your head immediately whipped to Leah who had a great big smile on her face, you knew if anyone could whip anyone into shape it was her.

The first half ended and you were stuck in the changing room with a yelling Emma, usually her speeches were helpful but today you just wanted to exit the building.

"y/l/n!" Emma called out and you brought your head from your hands "top right corner" she said "never seen her jump higher than there" she pointed out and you nodded.

When you went out you noticed that Leah had been put as a defender, your defender.

You didn't know whether to say hi, ignore her or to switch with Sam secretly but your legs weren't working with your brain as you now stood next to her.

"You good?" she asked as she stared at the Stadium around her "not now" you muttered and she nodded "valid".

Leah wasn't stupid, she had versed you before you had become an item, she knew you were competitive and she was too which is why you had both been avoiding the game.

The siren rang and you were both running Leah wanted a clean sheet and you wanted to get your name on the board.

It wasn't long till Lauren passed the ball to you and your dribbled down the right side, getting ready to attempt the ball top corner before a foot came under you, pushing you to the floor.

Usually in other games, Leah would leave you to the floor but this time she held out her hand "c'mon baby" she whispered as you grabbed her hand and winced once you put your body weight on your ankle.

"Off her Williamson" Lauren ran over and pushed her but you stepped in front of Leah protectively "she helped me up, we're good" you said as Lauren lifted her brows at you.

Something had changed, every player on the ground could see it, usually you and Leah were at each others throats on the ground and now you were helping each other up and protecting each other.

The game ended and you both went off to your own teams, you stayed to yourself, not in the mood to talk to anyone but you did notice the lingering stares of your team mates.

You were angry, you lost and all your team could think about was your act of kindness.

"Can I not be nice?" you asked loudly "Not to Arsenal" someone piped up and you rolled your eyes "fucking christ" you muttered and Sam stood up "It was just different, you weren't helping up your defenders at Spurs what's different about Leah?" she asked and you turned to your locker.

This didn't go un noticed by your team mates as Millie Bright stepped closer "What's different about Leah?" she asked again with genuine concern "y/n?"

"Because I liker her and we're dating" You shut her off and turned back to your locker, folding your clothes with more forced as the whole team looked at you.

When you drove home after the game you were surprised to see Leah sitting at the couch with a wine in hand and another glass for you on the table.

"I did something stupid" she told you and you nodded "me too" you sighed and plumped down onto the couch "who wants to share first?" Leah joked and you looked down at your thumbs "I told the team" you admitted and slowly looked at Leah, scared of her reaction.

You were very surprised to see a smiling Leah.

"Why are you smiling?" you asked and she laughed "I told my team too!" she revealed as she laughed "god we're both stupid"

"How'd the team react?" you ask and she took a sip of wine "gave me shit but then told me they already knew, apparently I left my snap maps on and Jen found me being here a few many times"

"How'd Chelsea react?"

"Told me it was about time I had something interesting in my life" you laughed before you turned to Leah.

"at least we don't have to be so secret anymore"

"next the media?" she guessed

"oh tik toks already blown up" you laughed.

That's how you both spent your night, cuddling on the couch and laughing at tik toks that were made of the game and your interactions.

"they're good" Leah realized

"they don't miss a thing"

[thinkwosolife23]

She needs you, Alessia Russo

Today was one of the biggest games, if not the biggest game of the season.

As an Arsenal player, playing Chelsea has to be the most fustrating game to play. More importantly as a defender, you have the task of keeping Sam Kerr quiet. Even with Leah by your side, it can be extremely difficult. Despite being your rival, you have the upmost respect for the Chelsea team and all of there players, they are a talented side but that means they bring out the best in you. But it's got to the point where everyone almost expects Arsenal to lose, like we don't even put up a fight against them.

You've played Chelsea many times over the 3 years you have been at Arsenal, your win ratio isn't exactly ideal. You can count on one hand how many times you've actually beat them.

However, Arsenal have made some big changes and improvements this season. With the new signings and players returning from injury, you were hopefull, really hopefull that you could win,

One of the new signings just happened to be your fiance. You and Alessia had known each other since you were about 13 through the England youth teams.

When you were 18, you had made the venture to move to America to go to University and play for North Carolina Tar Heels. Alessia had also made the move, meaning the two of you became a lot closer. Eventually that lead to a relationship when your were both 19.

In 2020, you signed for Arsenal and Alessia had signed for Manchester United. The distance was difficult for the both of you, it definatly challenged your strength as a couple. But it mad you cherish the time you did have together even more.

You had proposed to Alessia in the iddle of Wembley stadium when you had just won the Euros, you couldn'y have thought of a better time to do it. Thankfully, she said yes.

You were over the moon when your soon to be wife decided to join Arsenal. Obviously, you knew that the choice was difficult for Alessia and you knew how much she loved her United. But you couldn't be happier knowing that for both club and country, you get to play alongside the love of your life. You had the hope that Alessia was exactly what Arsenal needed to beat Chelsea.

Anyways, the Arsenal coach had just arrived at Emirates Stadium.

Before your warm up, you had chance to go onto the field to do the pitch check, to speak with some of the Chelsea players and have time with your own teammates.

After talking to Millie and Lauren, two of your fellow Lionesses, you and Alessia began walking around the pitch looking for your families in the quickly filling stadium.

"How you feeling, love?" You asked Alessia as she began tracing patterns on your hand whilst you were walking along, somethin she usually did when she was nervous.

"I'm good." She told you, her voice not at all convincing.

"C'mon Less, you know you don't have to lie to me."

"I'm just a bit nervous, that's all. It's a big game, there's so much pressure."

"Forget about the nerves, the pressures. I have no doubt that you'll be amazing because you always are. My stargirl."

By now, the two of you had stopped walking around. You had pulled Alessia into a hug, lightly kissing her temple, her head resting in your neck.

"I love you"

"I love you too"

Before long, you were stood in the tunnel waiting for both teams to walk out. You always were last in the line, it became an almost ritual for you now. You and Katie were messing around as usual, laughing at something one of the mascots had said.

Arsenal Starting 11:

GK - M. Zinsberger LB - K. McCabe CB - L. Williamson CB - Y/N. Y/LN RB - S. Catley CDM - L. Walti CM - K. Little (C) LW - C. Foord CF - V. Meidama RW - B. Mead ST - A. Russo

Chelsea Starting 11:

GK - Z. Musovic LB - A. Lawrence CB - M. Bright (C) CB - J. Carter RB - N. Charles CDM - S. Ingle CDM - E. Cuthbert CAM - F. Kirby LW - G. Reiten ST - S. Kerr RW - L. James

The game was fairly even at both ends. You and Leah had an amzing partnership at the back which the Chelsea frontline were currently struggling to get by.

At the other end of the pitch, our fowards were doing a really good job of testing Musovic in goal but nothing had managed to get past her.

Until…

45+2' Alessia Russo Goal (A: Y/N Y/LN)

You had sent a long ball from the halfway line, which managed to go ever the Chelsea back line and reach Alessia who kicked it into the back of the net.

She ran over too you and jumped, wrapping her arms around your neck and her legs around your waist.

In the second half, Chelsea brought a tougher energy. The players were acting way harsher towards the Arsenal players, way harsher than they were in the first half. Their tackles were higher, the shoulder barges were stronger and the shirt pulls were far more occurent.

However, even by the 80th minute, you still were in the lead. You and Leah had made no mistakes at the back, the Chelsea frontline couldn't even get a proper shot off without one of you making the crucial tackle or block.

Leading to this moment. Chelsea had a corner in the 83rd minute due to you blocking a Sam Kerr shot.

At Chelsea, you knew that they either aimed for Sam's head or Millie's. They would always aim for one of them two.

You were currently in the main mix of people in the box. You were glued to Millie's side, doing your upmost to mean that the ball didn't go in the back of the Arsenal net.

Guro's delivery was impeccable, the ball heading straight fo the mix of blue and red in the box.

You jumped up to try and deter the ball when you felt something a lot harder than the ball in the side of your head.

Everyone in the stadium watched as Sam Kerr's Boot connected with the side of your head, sending you limp on the floor.

The Arsenal players in shock when you didn't get back up like you usually did. Play was immediatly stopped when you were face down on the ground, not moving.

Your teamates headed in multiple different directions. Some members of both teams gathered round your unmoving state to give you privacy whilst waiting for the medics. Alessia and Katie headed stright for Sam's direction in an angrily manor, whereas Leah and Steph wher among some wsho where straight by your side.

Leah, slowly and carefully began to roll you over so you were on your back. Players faces screwed up in horror as your face was covered in blood, which was now all over your shirt.

"C'mon Y/N, I need you to wake up now." Leah said, whilst scanning your face to see if there was any sort of response.

Alessia's fustration towards Sam had took her attention, her mind thinking you would be up by now. In the midst of it all, she hadn't noticed how you were still on the ground.

Your eyes slowly flickered open, shocked at the amount of light you were faced with. The pain in the side of your head was unlike anything you had ever felt with.

"Less?" Your voice barely scraped a whisper as all you needed was your lover by your side.

"Give us a minute, love. She's on her way."

Leah darted her eyes to Alessia's direction, to see her still going at Sam, emphisizing her fustrations and anger.

Katie had now noticed your state, realising it was way more serious than anyone had anticipated. And was now trying to help Beth steer Alessia away from Sam. Alessia wasn't ever the type to get in shouting matches but everyone knew that you were each others weak spot.

"Less, stop! You've had your say, now leave it!" Beth's unexpectedly firm voice slightly startled Alessia. Meaning her and Katie could pull her away.

"Alessia, she needs you." Katie's words made her turn around to realise that you were still on the floor, blood dripping from your head, with Leah and the medics by your side.

Alessia made little time in rushing over to your side, guilt swarming her as she let her anger overwhelm her.

"Baby, i'm sorry. I'm here now." Alessia said, taking your hand in hers. Watching on as you drifted in and out of conciousness.

The medics were quick to get you on the stretcher and off the pitch to get you properly treated.

The players and stadium erupted in claps as you were took off the pitch and down into the tunnel, towards the medical room.

There was a significant amount of extra time in the match due to your injury, but the players concentration wasn't on the match anymore. It was on whether or not you were okay.

Alessia couldn't even think straight, let alone play a match. As soon as the final whistle went, Alessia disregarded all the usual expectations of post-match and ran down the tunnel to find where you were.

The confusion flooded Alessia as she approached the medical room. Your laugh could be heard from the outside of the room.

Alessia quickly swung the door open to be met with sight of you on the medical bed with pading and bandages covering the side of your head.

"Oh my, Babe your awake." Alessia said as she saw you, her body instantly relaxed a bit.

"Babe?" Your face crumpled up in confusion and so did Alessia's as your reaction to her wasn't what she expected.

She quickly directed her look to the staff on the room who were fast to reassure her that you were quite dosed up on medication.

"I have a wife, you know." You told her factually, crossing your arms over your chest.

"Ohh do you now?" Alessia had to hold in her laugh, but her eyes also softened at what you had just said.

"Yeah, she's so beautiful. The most beautifulest girl ever."

Alessia did now actually laugh at the word you had just created.

"Can you tell me what your name is? Just so I can go and get your wife, I'm sure she would want to know that your okay." Alessia tried to go along with your words, hoping you'd eventually realise that your fiance was stood in front of you.

"Y/N Russo." You told Alessia confidently.

Alessia eyes watered at your confession but she soon thought that the best thing was to just turn around and show you the back of her shirt.

"So you stole her shirt and now your trying to steal her wife."

"Right, love, listen. I am Alessia. Your my fiance, we're not married yet."

"Ohhhhh." You said, the realisation of your confusion finally hitting you.

Alessia came and sat on the bed next to you. You moved over so she could lay down meaning you could rest your head on her chest. Your hands wrapping tightly around her waist as hers lightly rubbed your back.

"I quite like the sound of Y/N Russo, though."

[woso-dreamzzz]

Wingwomen

Hardersson x Child!Reader

Part of the Big Adventures Universe

Summary: The Wingman episode

"We are your wingwomen for today," Morsa says to the camera attached to the car," This is Pernille Harder. She plays for Denmark. She plays for Chelsea." She smiles at Momma. "I know you pretty well, I can tell you that."

"You do," Momma says," I can introduce you too. Magdalena Eriksson, captain for Chelsea FC. Playing for the Swedish national team, making a lot of tackles on the football pitch but, also, at home sometimes."

Morsa laughs awkwardly. "Oh, okay."

You laugh too and Morsa reaches back to wiggle your leg. "And our little baby," She says," y/n. The future of Sweden."

Momma rolls her eyes as she pulls out of the spot. "Denmark."

"Sweden."

"Denmark."

You giggle again. "I like Arsenal!"

Momma and Morsa both groan and you beam a sunny smile.

"We started off as just friends, playing together for the same team in Sweden," Morsa says during the drive," Pernille asked me if I wanted to take a math course with her and then we studied math. And yeah, the rest is history."

"Momma doesn't like math!" You say from your seat as you make your girl-swan and girl-moose kiss.

"I like math, princesse!"

"Don't teach me math," You say back, sticking out your tongue.

Morsa laughs. "Now the producer wants to hear about the photo."

"The photo."

"The photo, yeah."

Momma smiles. "Which one? The one with us or Princesse? Because both of them kind of blew up."

"Our one first."

"It was taken at the world cup.. Yeah, after the game I kissed you. The picture was taken and we suddenly just had twenty-thousand more followers on Instagram and Twitter. I didn't get it, like, what happened?"

"After that picture," Morsa says," We really became role models. A lot of people were looking at us and were happy to be able to see that people can be open. If you're two girls in love or a girl and a boy or two boys, it doesn't matter, whatever you are. That's the message we wanted to share. It was a complete coincidence that the picture was taken but it ended up becoming a really beautiful thing."

"And the medal picture?"

"The medal picture," Morsa says softly. She turns her head to look at you. "What's the medal picture, princesse?"

"When I was wearing your medal!" You reply with a silly grin," I was very little but you still gave it to me."

"She did," Momma says," We've got that picture framed somewhere in the house. It was very cute."

"I was just making sure she understood how heavy it was," Morsa laughs," For when she wins her own."

"I'm gonna win a World Cup medal!" You insist.

"Of course you are." Morsa presses her finger to her ear to listen to the producer man before turning to Momma again. "Who or what convinced you to join Chelsea? Anyone in particular?"

Momma laughs. "Morsa thinks she's the reason we moved to Chelsea, princesse."

"She is," You say, stubbornly crossing your arms over your chest," Could've stayed at Wolfsburg."

Momma rolls her eyes. "I just think it was just the perfect timing and obviously you were playing on the team."

"It's a little bit of a bonus."

"That's a bonus, yeah. No more bath time duties, no more having to play all the time. You definitely have your uses."

"Morsa plays with me a lot," You cut in," And she does my hair in the morning. It's not always good but she tries."

Morsa turns to look at you in betrayal. "What do you mean it's not always good?!"

You shrug. "Sometimes you tug too hard."

Morsa still looks at you, mouth open wide before she reaches back to tickle your sides. You shriek and try to wiggle away but you're still strapped into your seat so you can't go anywhere.

"Do you have a funny story about the party?" Morsa asks," After winning the league?"

Momma's face lights up. "Ugh, yes!"

Morsa hides in her hands. "Are we really sharing this?"

"Morsa got excited," You say," Because she had a party with the team and forgot that she's too old to party."

"I'm not old!"

"Yes you are."

"No I'm not!"

"You're a Morsa. All Morsa's are old! You're too old to party! You went blergh everywhere!"

Morsa rolls her eyes and looks at the camera. "Because of Covid, because of everything, I hadn't been able to party in over a year. I didn't really know how much I could handle in that evening and..."

"And Morsa threw up in the toilet!"

"And I was taking care of her," Momma says," Like the good girlfriend that I am."

Morsa smiles weakly as you giggle. "Yeah, you had to do girlfriend duties."

"And Millie had to take over babysitting the princesse."

Momma pulls up to the restaurant and you eagerly look out the window, kicking your little legs. It's not often that you get KFC.

"Okay, Pernille," Morsa says," It's time. It's called The Colonel's Quiz." She pulls out a little KFC bucket.. "You can start."

"I'll take the first one."

"And just so you know before we start, Princesse gets to choose a forfeit for the loser so there's a lot at stake, okay?"

"Okay," Momma says," What is my favourite food?"

"I would say..." Morsa thinks for a moment. "Like sushi or Japanese food."

Momma nods. "It's Japanese slash Mexican."

"That's what we had yesterday!" You giggle.

"That's right, princesse. I got one correct answer!"

"Okay, so the next one," Momma says," What is my worst habit?"

"It's you sometimes ask too many questions," Morsa replies.

You think for a moment. "Er...You make me speak English at home!"

Morsa and Momma laugh.

"I said I ask questions before I try to figure it out myself."

"Two points for Morsa!" You announce. You like this game. It's fun.

"How many times did I win player of the year in Denmark? I mean, if you were a really good girlfriend, you actually should know."

"Five times?" Morsa asks, not looking too sure.

"Is that your final answer?"

"No, six times?"

You frown. That doesn't sound right either.

"Is that your final answer?"

"That's my final answer. Is it correct?"

"Yes?"

"Is it correct?"

"Yes, it is."

"Oh my god!" Morsa celebrates

You shake your head. "No," You say," Morsa's wrong. It's seven, I counted all of them at home."

Morsa laughs. "Pernille, the producer says she's right. It's actually seven."

Momma's eyes go wide. "Oh, is it? I thought it was six!"

"Momma's won too many," You say earnestly," 'Cause she can't keep up with how many she has." You shake your head almost in disappointment. When you win prizes when you're older, you're never going to forget how many you've got.

"Two out of three is not bad," Morsa says.

"No."

"Not let's see how well you know me." She picks up the slip of paper. "Who is my favourite music artist slash band?"

"Er..." Momma looks a bit worried. "Leonard Cohen or something."

"It's Lana Del Rey."

"Are you sure?"

"Momma," You say," I think Morsa knows who her favourites are."

Morsa laughs. "Thanks, princesse. Next question, what is my party trick?"

"I know! I know!"

"Let Momma answer."

"Er..." Momma doesn't look like she knows. "You get drunk and you throw up."

"Shut up!"

"Those are bad words, Morsa! You have to put money in the swear jar when we get home!"

"Yeah, I don't know."

"Princesse?"

"Morsa can open a bottle of beer with her teeth!" You say," She's going to teach me when I get all my big teeth!"

"Magda!"

Morsa tries to change the subject quickly. "Zero points for you, Pernille. We already have a winner but let's do the last question just to see if you know me a little bit. Which team did I make my international debut against?"

Momma blows out all of her and you giggle.

Morsa sighs in disappointment. "Oh, okay well...I'm gonna get out of this car now. This is not good."

"I think it is..." Momma thinks for a while. "Ukraine?"

"No."

"Hungary?"

"No. It's France."

Momma sighs.

"The forfeit is yours. Princesse?"

"Er..." You hadn't actually thought of one in advance. "Er...You...You have to order the food in an English accent!"

Momma looks stricken and Morsa laughs, leaning back to give you a high five.

"Princesse..."

"You have to!" You wave a finger at her," 'Cause you got the forfeit! Forfeits aren't meant to be fun!"

"Are you ready to practice your accent?" Morsa teases.

"You have to say please and thank you a lot," You say helpfully.

Momma pulls up to the window and in a shockingly bad accent speaks," I'd like a Twister Wrap and I'd also like a salad, please."

"Is there anything else?"

"Princesse, what do you want?"

"Popcorn chicken! And er...Fruitshoot!"

"What flavour?"

"Apple and blackcurrent!"

"And a kid's popcorn chicken and an apple and blackcurrent fruitshoot," Momma says in her bad accent.

As you pull away from the machine, the car is filled with laughter.

"Yeah," Morsa laughs," I don't know what the hell that was but it was great. It's so funny that you're like a farmer girl from Denmark doing a posh accent."

The laughter keeps going when Momma drives past the window and then tries to take the tray with her.

"If you're going to eat in the car," Morsa says as she passes you your food and drink," Then you can't spill anything."

"I won't!"

"Okay," Morsa says as you start the drive through," We've got another question here. Which of the players from our team would you want to see doing a Wingmen episode?"

"Well," Momma says," The first one I was thinking about is Sam and Erin."

You giggle. "Sam and Erin are very silly. Like clowns!"

"What about Emma Hayes doing an episode?" Morsa offers.

"Yeah that...that wouldn't be quiet," Momma replies.

"Coach Emma talks a lot," You say," She talks and talks and talks-"

"Where are we?"

"-And talks and talks and talks-"

"This is Harry Potter's World."

"-And talks and talks-"

"I don't know. I've never seen it."

You stop your repetition to gasp. "Momma! But we live in England now! That's...That's really bad!"

Momma laughs. "Sorry, princesse. I didn't realise you were this passionate about it. Who even showed you them?"

"Millie did," You say," She's fun. I like Millie."

"Is she your best friend?"

You think for a moment. "Erin and Sam are my friends too and Guro but they're not my best friends."

"Who's your best friend?"

"Jessie! I like Jessie!"

Morsa laughs. "You and Jessie are two peas in a pod. Best friends forever!"

"Jessie's my bestest friend."

Momma unlocks the car and hoists you out. "Home sweet home. I think we've been some good Wingwomen. "

"I mean this was great fun." Morsa gets out too, pressing a kiss to your cheek before smiling at Moma. "I loved you English accent, that's the best thing for me today."

"I liked the food!" You say, stuffing some chips into your mouth.

"We're never going to get her to eat healthy again," Momma laments.

"Enjoy it while you can, princesse," Morsa says," Because you've not getting anymore fast food for a while."

You stick your tongue out at them. "My bestest friend Jessie will buy me some!"

[kerrslvr]

london derby // sam kerr x beth england x reader

in which, after spurs vs chelsea ending in a draw, beth and sam end up winning your orgasms, which in that moment, is far better than a super league trophy.

warnings; 18+ strap ons, graphic smut, petnames, dom!sam, dom!beth, sub!reader, fingering, cunnilingus, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, squirting, face sitting, probably more but writing this one fried my brain 👍🏼

this is basically just pwp. and it’s filth. and i haven’t written smut in months so it’s all a bit all over the place. but i was so excited to burst back onto the writing scene. sorry. enjoy lesbians xx

"hello?"

your voice echoed through the hotel room when you picked up the phone. it was late enough so that the sun had started to set, although, on a drizzly sunday in london, there wasn't much of a sun to set anyway.

at first you wondered who was calling the hotel phoneline. nobody really knew where you were staying other than your manager, who'd set you up in the hotel for a few days for work, but of course, when the voice sounded on the other end of the line; you realised it couldn't be anybody else.

"hey, sweetheart," beth's sickly sweet voice oozed through the phone, "still in london then, i hear?"

the smirk that planted itself on your lips was one you weren't quite able to remove, and your insides jumped at the thought of beth sneaking into your hotel room.

"yeah," you breathed, "how'd you know i was staying in walthamstow?"

"not just a pretty face, darling," you could hear the smugness in her voice before she'd even spoken, "now listen, i just had a shit game and need to blow off some steam, you up for it?"

after a day of trying to get a headstart on work before a busy few days, you really were up for it.

"you know i'm always up for it, bethy."

"good girl, i'll be there soon."

beth was a semi-frequent hook up of yours, and you both liked the company the other person gave you in and outside of the bedroom, she was older and the power she held was something you both enjoyed, yet she was able to be somebody you saw as a friend.

neither of you were ready for anything serious when you first started hooking up, and so it meant you could both get away with sleeping with other girls while she was at different places in the country.

plus, it also meant you'd gained quite the phonebook of famous faces, and interchanging which of beth's friends you'd chose to sleep with whenever they were playing near you was almost as fun as sleeping with beth herself.

you tried your hardest to keep yourself entertained while you waited, unpacking the rest of your things so they didn't crease in your suitcase, opening a bottle of wine from the mini fridge, you even managed to have just enough time for a quick shower.

as you tightened the belt on the hotel robe, there was a knock at the door in three quick successions, and if you were any more eager to get to the door you would've tripped over your own feet.

from outside the door, beth could hear the pitter-patter of your eager feet, and she waited patiently for you to unhook the latch.

"took long enough." you swung open the door, only to be greeted by not one, but two faces standing at your hotel room door.

there, standing in their respective training gear, stood beth and sam, her opponent from todays match, and another semi-frequent hook up of yours. you were positive your face went redder than a tomato, but your insides juxtaposed the feeling of embarrassment by backflipping into oblivion at the thought of what the two of them could do to you. together.

"had to make a quick pitstop," beth didn't wait for you to step aside so she could enter, and neither did sam. "do you know who sam is, darling? or do i need to make some introductions?"

they both stared at you blankly as you stood at the door, dumbfounded. in all the months you'd been hooking up with beth and her friends, you never expected to be caught out.

"beth's asking you a question, y/n. i suggest you answer her, and i suggest you tell the truth or else it won't end up very well for you, will it, princess?"

"n-no."

"no it won't end well, or no you don't know sam?" beth raised an eyebrow and admired you, as you stood there, silent. "come on, darling, you're on a clock here."

"n-no, it won't end well, yes, i know sam."

sam walked towards you, hands brushing against your robe, and it brought you back to reality. "and, how do you know sam?"

her hands slipped underneath the robe, fingertips cold against the soft, partially damp skin of your shoulders. she knew what she was doing, working you up, teasing you so you'd slip up and beth would know all your secrets. still, she'd probably fucked just as many of your friends as you had hers, so you figured you should call it even.

you looked up at sam, her brown eyes tantalizingly soft, despite holding so much dominance, so much eagerness to fuck the living daylights out of you.

"i know sam because, i, because we..." you took a moment to compose yourself, but sam's hands were roaming across your body under your pointless waffle robe, and beth was standing just as close to you now. "because we fuck too."

sam pushed at the hem of the robe, and it fell to your elbows, announcing your bare chest to the room. beth's hands carressed one of your boobs, and your nipple pebbled in the process. she couldn't help but let out a domineering chuckle.

"thank you for being honest, darling."

your breath hitched when sam's lips echoed the skin of your shoulder, leaving ghost-like kisses to your hot flesh. "you should know, neither of us are very happy. how long have you been lying?"

"not long."

beth's fingers pinched your nipple and you winced, "don't fucking lie."

"only a couple of months," your mouth worked faster than your brain in that moment, "we'd already been hooking up for a while when i started sleeping with sam, bethy. i promise 'm not lying."

sam's lips became more apparent on your skin, and beth continued to play around with your nipples, switching between the both of them with her soft but cold fingertips.

"you were so eager for this to happen that you didn't even bother putting on underwear, did you?" sam cooed, "i could see your tits through the robe before you'd even opened the fucking door."

sam's lips worked back up your arm, kissing around the curve of your boob until she'd latched herself onto a nipple, eliciting a moan from your mouth, and now beth had a free hand she was able to pull the robe off of your body completely, and she watched as your body ignited in goosebumps.

"you wanted this to happen, didn't you, baby? hm?" beth's hand instinctively wrapped around your neck and your lips parted. sam's hands took place of her mouth, pinching, rubbing and nicking at your nipples until they became puffy, just like she wanted them.

"i didn't know you were both going to show up," you shifted on your feet, and despite trying to help it, a smirk brushed across your cheeks, "but it was a nice surprise."

"god, you're in one of those insufferable fucking moods again," sam grunted, pinching both of your nipples together between her thumb and forefinger so hard it sent sharp jolts of pain up through your chest and down to your fingers. she turned to beth, as you reacted with a wince of pain.

"can you fucking stand her when she's in one of these moods?"

"she always seems to do it when she knows i'm pissed off with her, don't you babygirl?"

"no."

beth sucked her teeth, as if proving her point, and sam pulled you closer to her body by your nipples, and once again, instinctually wrapped her hand around your throat. the pain through your chest was intense, and sam's hand stopped a release of noise to tumble from your mouth.

"don't fucking lie," she said through gritted teeth, "beth's told you once, and if we tell you again you'll be left high and dry. do i make myself clear?"

silence fell upon the room and beth rolled her eyes, her hand coming into sharp contact with your bum as punishment for your lack of answer, and sam's hand contracted around your throat, "i said, do i make myself fucking clear?"

"y-yes." you choked out as best you could given your circumstance, and after sam left a hot, searing kiss to your lips, she pulled away from your throat as if she was never gripping it, although the mark of her hand across your neck said otherwise.

"right, here's whats going to fucking happen," beth tilted your face towards her, and you winced at the strain in your neck, "we are going to use you how we want, take out our frustrations on you, and all you have to do is lay there and take it. do you understand?"

"mhm," you nodded, voice gravelly, "i understand."

"good girl," sam cooed, "do you remember your colour system?"

if you weren't so desperate to be fucked you'd have slapped sam round the face. you introduced her - and beth - to the traffic light system. it was as if they were mocking you.

"yes," you breathed, "green for good, orange is i'm okay but i'm almost at my limit and red for stop."

beth's hand came around your face and you flinched, thinking she could read your mind and that she would slap you, but instead she caressed it slowly. "are you scared, angel?"

"n-no," you shrugged, "thought you were going to slap me."

"that's never made you flinch before, though love, has it?" sam cooed, unzipping her jacket and throwing it on top of your robe, and for a minute her face was lost in the fabric of her t-shirt until that too, landed in the pile of clothes behind you. it was as she sunk to her knees that you noticed the captains armband on her bicep, and you gulped. "but then again, maybe beth's doing it wrong."

beth simply rolled her eyes. they were friends, but they were also rivals, on the pitch, and now off the pitch, as they fought to make you cum.

you opened your mouth to speak, but instead the words caught in the back of your throat. sam's tongue trailed your pussy, purposely avoiding the two places you needed her the most, but that still didn't stop the tingling sensation in your tummy from building.

your eyes trailed to beth, who was also pulling her clothes from her body, the muscles in her arms flexing as she pulled off her shirt, and she too, was wearing her captains armband on her bicep, something that let a soft growl leave your lips.

sam's tongue finally found its rightful place on your clit and one hand immediately flung to her hair, a moan tumbling from your mouth. once beth was stripped down to her sports bra and underwear, she came around the back of you and kept you upright so you didn't hurt yourself.

if there was one thing you loved the most about hooking up with sam - it was her pussy eating. you could stand here in this moment for days and never get bored of the feeling. she loved knowing how much you loved it and she was a woman of her craft that never left you unsatisfied.

she settled into a comfier position and allowed herself to go to town on you, making you moan and cry within seconds of taking full control.

"does that feel good, darling?" beth asked, her hands cupping your tits and stimulating your puffy nipples as her lips grazed along your neck and sucked at the spot under your ear, making some blooming red spots of her own on your skin. your other hand found her wrist as you nodded.

"need.. m-more," you breathed, pushing her hand up to your neck, and both her and sam let out chuckles.

"god, youre so fucking needy," sam cooed, the vibrations of her voice making your clit twitch, "does it not embarrass you how needy you actually are?"

you bucked your hips up into sam's face after she'd spoken and it proved her point without you even opening your mouth. beth's lips were rampant on your neck, sucking harsh marks that were almost definitely already turning blue, and you sucked on her finger sloppily.

sam's tongue traced circles on your clit and your legs threatened to buckle at the embarrassing sensitivity. the bubble inside your stomach was building at a rapid rate and sam was purposely using that to her advantage, pulling your clit between her teeth and sucking on it as if it were a sweet.

you reached around to beth, fumbling for the line of her underwear, and when you slipped your finger under the waistband she gasped softly, allowing you to feel her as best you could.

the cotton was damp and you smirked around her finger as your own guided themselves as best they could to her clit through the awkward angle, and when your fingertip met with the bud she pulled away from your neck and bit the lobe of your ear.

"trying to make me cum too, princess? hm?" you nodded as an answer, unable to speak with her finger sitting on your tongue, "shouldn't you at least cum for sam first, baby?"

"she's far too greedy for that." sam's words were muffled and you ground yourself down onto her tongue, which only spurred her on further.

your pussy began to twitch, your breathing started to get heavier, and sam knew you were close to cumming, but she still expected you to ask.

"sam.. 'm gonna.. please can i-"

your own orgasm cut you off, ripping through your muscles like a knife and you were unable to control it. the hand that was in beth's underwear stilled and she held you in place by your neck so you didn't topple over onto the floor, and sam's tongue lay flat against your pussy as you rode out your orgasm.

sam's face glistened as she stood, and you couldn't help the urge to pull her in so you could taste yourself on her lips. she smirked against your skin, "one nil to me i'd say," sam looked across at beth, "what d'you think?"

"i think y/n's got a lot more where that one came from," she teased, releasing you from her grasp and pulling you across to the bed, "so really, sam, i'm not losing just yet."

you landed on the mattress with a soft thud, allowing the girls to admire you for a moment in the darkening room. sam undressed herself fully and crawled up onto the bed first, swiftly followed by beth, and the pair of them hovered over your face. the next few minutes were a blur of lips, unsure of who was kissing who, but it was a sight to behold.

"are you gonna stay nice and still for me, darling?" beth cooed into your ear, sending goosebumps over your arms. all you could do was nod, "i would say you need to stay quiet too, but i can read sam's mind like a book."

the pair of them shared a growing smirk, and your eyebrows furrowed in confusion until you watched sam hook her leg over your chest so she was straddling you, "i'll make sure she stays quiet and still, so don't worry too much about that."

beth's lips traced your hipbones, kissing along every inch of flesh until your leg flinched, while sam eased herself up and up until her pussy was inches from your face. your hands wrapped around her thighs to keep her in place - and to keep them from wandering down to usher beth to hurry up - and she teased you by using her strength to hover above you until beth was ready.

"what's your colour, sweetheart?"

"green, bethy."

one of sam's hands came down and brushed beth's bum as she moved further down your body, a gesture that sent your mind into a frenzy and you whimpered at the sight; although you knew better than to make too much of scene out of the ordeal.

your clit twitched at the sensation of spit trickling around it, and beth was doing her age-old spit trick to lube you up; not that you really needed it.

in the blink of an eye, sam had lowered herself right down onto your face until you had no choice but to use your tongue. you were nowhere near as good as sam or beth - they had a lot more years of experience than you did - but you were damn good.

as your tongue began to kitten lick sam's clit, beth's finger slid knuckle by knuckle deeper into your pussy, and you mewled at the sensation. sam's hands grabbed your boobs for balance, and she began to rock her hips in time with your tongue.

"fucking hell, i forgot how good this tongue really was," sam pulled up and let you regain some air, "hold it still for me then, angel. you know what i want to do."

you poked out your tongue, mouth slack and wide and you let sam sink back down onto it, riding it as if it were a dildo. she pinched a nipple in the process and a whimper tumbled from your mouth and vibrated around her right as beth added another finger, this time your pussy comfortable enough for her to push through further.

"should really have your pussy filled more often, shouldn't you, darling? it's so tight, like a little virgin. i bet you can't wait for one of us to fill it later."

"one of us?" sam questioned, sounding as cool as ever despite your tongue being an inch deep inside her, "i'm just as eager to fill it as you are."

the exchange of words was met with a garbled moan, and you pulled your tongue from sam's pussy so you could breathe momentarily, and you allowed yourself to moan at the movement of beth's fingers, silently praying for her to add another finger.

sam rocked back and forth on your tongue once more, and you licked around her swollen clit every time the tip of your tongue came into contact with it, while beth added another finger inside of you.

your palms started to sweat and you dug your fingers into the muscly flesh of sam's thigh so you were able to keep ahold of her while beth's tongue came into contact with your clit. you took a leaf out of her book and began to mimic the movements of her tongue on sam, to which she let out a loud moan of appreciation.

"god, you've got such a pretty pussy." beth cooed as she pulled away, and when sam leaned down to rub the tip of her nose around your clit and trickle a line of spit down the valley of your walls to meet beth's fingers, you struggled to keep your rhythm.

beth teased you by dragging another finger around your entrance and eagerly licked your sensitive clit in quick motions so you were left a wriggling, moaning mess. your moans vibrated along sam's pussy and she too, was a wriggling, moaning mess on top of you.

your grip released from sam's thigh and you tapped beth's leg, motioning for her to swing her hips round to your hands, which she did, and once again, your fingers found her pussy. beth took a sharp intake of breath and a moan tumbled from her lips when your middle finger began to circle her clit, and now the room was a cacophony of moans that warranted a neighbors complaint.

sam's hips began to rock over your face quicker now that she was starting to feel her orgasm approach, expletives consistently leaving her mouth as one of her hands moved up to her nipple and she played with it in time with yours.

you pushed beth's underwear down her legs as best you could with one hand, and you now had the perfect angle to slide a finger inside of her, and as you slid one into her, she slowly added the third, teasing finger inside you and she was able to let her moans reverberate across your sensitive pussy.

"oh, fucking hell, 'm gonna cum if you keep eating my pussy like that, baby," sam pulled away from your tongue for a second, and you were able to get a small glimpse of beth eating your pussy and moaned, "oh, you like that, do you?"

in response to sam's question, your pussy clenched and despite her not being able to feel it, she sensed the answer was yes.

"clenching all over my fingers, babygirl? god, you're so desperate to cum, aren't you?" beth asked, resting her head on your thigh as she watched her wet fingers slip in and out of you, "if you're that fucking desperate with just my fingers inside of you, i dread to think how desperate you'll be when i resort to other measures."

"get in fuckin' line, beth," sam groaned, slotting herself back over your face, "i'm still the only one out of the two of us thats made her cum so far."

you knew your orgasm wouldn't be much longer, and so you sped up the movement of your finger inside beth, adding a second and a third in quick motions. your jaw started to ache, and sam's hips started to rock back and forth much faster than they were before; she too, wanted to cum just as much as you did.

you continued to clench around beth's fingers and when she curled them up to your g-spot repeatedly, you were unable to control your body's reflexes. beth smirked and her mouth latched to your clit again, wanting desperately to taste you as you came.

"she's gonna cum, look at her poor little legs thrashing around," sam noted, leaning forward to grip at your thighs so they didn't thrash as much as they originally were. your fingers dug into sam's thigh as harsh as they could to let her know she was correct, but she leaned down so her hand brushed your throat, "you'll wait for me and beth to cum first before you do, do you understand?"

you mewled against sam's pussy and as a response, beth slapped your swollen clit, "do not make me ask again," sam spoke harshly. as a response, you just nodded. "good girl, now get on with it."

your tongue had never moved as fast as it did in that moment, and you curled your fingers inside beth just as she had done inside you, and both of them were left moaning, wriggling messes. it was quite fun to be on this side of the window, but you'd much rather be the one receiving than the one giving. especially when their head was as good as it was.

sam came first, her entire body shaking and her clit twitching as your name left her mouth repeatedly, and beth came not too much longer after, rocking back on your fingers and leaving you desperate for a release. your pussy ached, and your throat was dry, and now, you really were embarrassed about how desperate you were.

"p-please. c-can i cum now?"

sam moved so she was facing you, and she admired your face that was glistening with her wetness, while beth's lips dragged soft kisses across your pubic bone.

"i dunno," sam answered, turning to look at beth, "what do you think?"

beth's fingers curled inside of you once more and your body rippled at the sensation, "i think she's been good enough, if a little greedy."

and that was all the answer you needed. sam's mouth found one of your nipples and her hand focused on the other, while beth's focus was solely on your pussy. she loved watching it clench and drip as she fingered it and licked it. your legs began to tremble uncontrollably, and nobody was going to stop the earthquake of an orgasm that shattered through your body.

you moaned louder than you expected at the stimulation you were getting from all over, and your body couldn't hold back the aftershocks that rippled through it. the loud, wet noises of beth slurping up all your wetness left your mind reeling, and it was even worse when she began to exchange the liquid between the three of you, as if she was a mother bird feeding her children.

"jesus, you taste so fucking sweet," sam noted, wiping the trail of spit that fell from your lip and sucking it into her own mouth, "i could taste you every single day."

"join the club," beth replied, admiring her work of your limp body. she stuck a finger in your mouth and let you suck off the remaining juices to keep you occupied while she spoke to sam, "you or me first?"

"oh well, i think it's only fair y/n shows you how incredible her tongue really is," sam's cocky smirk came back, "unless you'd rather let me have a second ride."

beth rolled her eyes and you couldn't help but flicker your gaze between the two of them. "i don't mind going second, means shes going to be uncontrollable," she looked down at you and stroked your face with the hand that was just in your mouth, and a damp trail of her spit covered finger was left across your cheek, "colour, darling?"

"i'm. uh, green. i think."

"you think?" sam asked, genuinely a bit concerned. "if you want to stop, darling all you have to do is say."

"n-no, i don't, not yet," your hand found hers in a sweet gesture, "i'm just getting a little tired, but im green."

sam placed a kiss to your hand and beth stroked your cheek, "you know we'll take excellent care of you, don't you, princess?"

you nodded in response, and sam released your hand so she could walk to her overnight bag, fumbling for whatever it was she was looking for. while she did that, beth caught you in a steamy make out and was able to shift you around, so she was now laying back on the pillows and you were hovering over her, your ass already perked up and waiting eagerly for sam's return.

you were so eager to finally taste beth that you didn't even hear the shuffling of sam's feet on the floor. you didn't notice her presence behind you until you felt the cold sensation of lube trickling down your thighs.

your fingers massaged the skin around beth's pussy and you turned round to face sam, standing behind you adorning your favourite strap of hers. it made you feel all warm and mushy inside knowing that her and beth brought your favourite toys with them so they could watch you crumble.

"why've you turned round, darling?" sam asked, her hand working up and down the shaft of the penis harnessed around her waist, "shouldn't you be making beth cum?"

you mewled at the mixture of the sight before you and the words leaving her lips, and then you felt beth's hand on your chin, yanking you back around to face her. "don't focus on sam, y/n. focus on me. understand?"

her voice was stern, but she had a soft look in her eyes.

"yes, beth, i understand."

she kissed you softly and then her hands juxtaposed her actions when she forced your head down to her crotch. as soon as your tongue came into contact with beth's clit, her head landed on the headboard and her eyes rolled back into her head, she was already sensitive and the sight of you about to be fucked by one of her friends was already sending her into overdrive.

as you got into a slow, soft rhythm, sam slid herself inside you and the stretch made you cry. sam's hips forced closer and closer to your bum until the strap was all the way inside of your pussy and it left you reeling.

you waved your hand across your back and sam grabbed ahold of your fingers, looping them together with hers. "everything okay?"

"mhm," you nodded, lifting your head up from beth's crotch, "jus' need you to stay there for a minute."

beth smirked up at sam, "bless her, she's really not been fucked in a long time, has she?"

"clearly not," sam pulled out and repeated the action, her hips drawing closer and closer to your skin, "do all the other girls not fuck you as good as us, baby? hm?"

"n-no," you choked out, "you two are the b-best."

your mind reeled as you slipped your tongue between beth's folds, and you soon realised that you would end up doing anything they wanted you to in that moment, and you knew they knew that too.

your body reacted quicker than you did as sam's hips began to thrust in an even rhythm, allowing you to adjust and wriggle accordingly. beth's moans were like sweet music to your ears as you continued to eat her out. her sweaty body was shaking with adrenaline, and the need to cum by your mouth, and you wished you could stay in the moment forever.

"less admiring, more eating," beth stated, punctuating herself with a slap to your cheek that was light enough to not hurt but daring enough to leave you reeling, "or else we'll tie you up in the corner and watch us do it to each other while you sit there crying."

"she'd probably fucking enjoy that," sam muttered, every word formed with a thrust, "but then again i couldn't stand to listen to her incessant whining."

"your choice, sweetheart."

your body was reeling now, and you knew it wouldn't be long before your third orgasm of the night washed over you, but you wanted to put all of your remaining effort into beth. you struggled to find a rhythm that your exhausted tongue could keep up with, and then beth started to grind her hips and it felt much easier for you to keep up with getting her to cum.

"starting to wear out, darling?" beth asked, a question that wasn't patronizing on paper, but in execution.

"mhm," you mumbled as you continued your plight, "but i wanna k-keep going."

"christ, you're like a bitch in heat," sam said, her own hips struggling to find rhythm at the nearing of her release, "can't seem to throw in the towel, can you baby?"

you shook your head and the feeling of your tongue sliding along beth's pussy made her jolt, and you completed the action until her mouth went slack. her hands grabbed bunches of your hair and held you in place as her second orgasm washed through her, your name tumbling out of her mouth like a mantra.

"sam... i... i don't know how much longer i can hold it," you croaked once beth had released your head. "p-please."

you reached around and grabbed sam's hand, and she held it at your lower back as she regained a newfound force to fuck you with, shoving you forward until your face landed in the space of duvet between where beth's legs were previously placed.

you didn't even realise beth had moved away from her spot in front of you until you felt her fingers circling your clit. your mind went numb in that moment as you struggled to find the words to announce that you were cumming, instead just a slur of screams and swears all rolled into one.

beth's hand came into contact with the skin of your cheeks and you hummed as you came to, "still feeling up for one more round?" she asked, "it'll be over so quickly, darling. you'll barely even feel it."

"o-okay," you nodded, and leaned in for a kiss which beth obliged, "but only if i get to sit between sam's legs so i can rest."

your eyes fell on sam as she slipped her legs out of the strap harness, and she'd never looked at you with so much care in her eyes before. "of course you can," she kissed your head, "our sleepy little girl."

your pussy was aching so much by this point, but you absolutely loved the way beth fucked you, and you weren't letting the evening end without feeling her for at least a few minutes. sam got comfy, her legs spreading out wide that her ankles hung over the edges of the bed, leaving you plenty of room to get comfy between them.

your head fell to the crook of her neck and she hooked her arms underneath yours so she was able to play with your nipples, and coax along your orgasm by flicking your clit if it was needed.

you watched beth with hooded eyes as she put on her strap harness, adorning your favourite strap of hers much like sam had done, and if you weren't so exhausted it would've amused you that they probably planned this prior to today's game.

it worked in beth's favour that you were clinging onto the edge of consciousness. she knew she'd end up getting waterworks and this was her favourite part of having sex with you - you didn't give up until you had nothing left to give.

"remember, darling, if you want to stop at anytime, all -"

"- i have to do is say red, i know," you nodded, your hair tickling sam's chin as beth lined up in front of you, "i remember."

"of course you do," she smirked, and punctuated her next sentence by gently easing her dick inside of you, "our clever little girl."

you gasped at the feeling of another dick sliding easily inside of you. this one was slightly curved, meaning it hit your g-spot almost instantly when beth hit the right angle.

sam’s hands wandered around your sweaty body, her damp finger pads drawing soft, gentle circles over your nipples that made them feel as if they were on fire.

beth knew she didn’t have time to waste, and so she flung one of your legs over her shoulder, and it earned her a rather excitable moan from you. the angle felt much better now, and her dick hit your g-spot with such ease that it left you feeling dizzy.

“f-fuck, beth, c-can you feel it?”

“i can feel it all, princess,” she oozed confidence and it sent a swarm of butterflies into your lower stomach, “i love it when your body’s got a mind of it’s own, can’t you feel yourself dripping down your legs?”

you shook your head at her question, and while one of sam’s hands stayed firmly planted on your nipple, one travelled down south to your clit, which throbbed as she touched it.

“y/n,” sam’s breath was hot on your neck as her lips travelled across the red skin, “you’re so fucking wet it’s unbelievable.”

“i-i can’t feel it,” your eyebrows furrowed, “w-why can’t i feel it?”

“because you’re being fucked so good, babe,” beth changed her angle again, this time bringing herself lower so she was closer to your face, and the hit of the g-spot felt exceptionally good now, and she smirked when you moaned again, “see?”

sam rolled her eyes but you chose to ignore their playful banter and focus on your imminent orgasm. beth’s thrusts were strong, and you watched as her dick slipped in and out of your pussy, each time trickles of wetness fell onto the duvet and made the bed wetter and wetter.

“do you trust me?” she asked.

“always,” you replied, “i’ll always trust you. both of you.”

“good, cause once i do this we all know what’s going to happen, and it’s going to be messy.”

beth hooked your other leg over her shoulder, and you screamed out at the pleasure coursing through your body. her dick was relentlessly hitting your g-spot with every thrust, and your body began to thrash at the sheer pleasure it was feeling.

sam tried her best to hold you down while flicking your clit, her lips nibbling your ear as she watched with eager eyes and anticipation.

“b-beth…. ‘m gonna…. can’t hold it any longer.”

within seconds of the broken sentence leaving your lips, your body went limp. you’d well and truly lost control of your clenching muscles and couldn’t stop the release from happening even if you wanted to.

the bedsheets underneath you grew in wetness, and felt as if they’d been soaked in a bathtub. sam’s fingers continued to toy with your clit as your muscles continued to contract and release bodily fluids all over the three of you, particularly yours and sam’s legs and beth’s face, but none of you minded.

you managed to conjure up enough strength in your weak arms to push sam’s hand away from your pussy when you’d eventually stopped cumming, and beth slid off the strap and came to your aid almost immediately after that.

the two of them shifted you so you were sat in the middle of them, your dead weight, exhausted body split between the two of them. sam wiped the dampness from your cheek while beth kissed your temple, both of them consistently praising how well you did, how proud they were.

“you did such a good job tonight, babe,” sam noted, shifting her weight slightly so she could reach across to the table at the side of the bed and grab your bottle of water, “what do you need now? here, drink.”

sam held the bottle to your lips and you glugged the liquid eagerly, and as the water brought you back to a sense of life, you felt embarrassed about your appearance.

“i, uh, i’d quite like a bath.”

“we can run you a bath,” beth kissed your temple again, and soon her fingers entwined with yours, “want us to stay? or go?”

“i want you to stay,” you mumbled, your mouth working faster than your brain, “both of you, just for a bit.”

sam rolled off the bed and scooped you up between her arms, carrying you slowly towards the bathroom as beth darted in to run your bath.

“okay,” sam looked down at your exhausted figure, “we’ll stay. for a while.”

[katiemccabeswife]

Awesome Parenting

Sam Kerr x Mum!Reader x Daughter || Sam's loss has a bigger impact on your daughter than Sam.

You were too focused on watching your girlfriend drop her head in disappointment to see the tears build in your daughter's eyes. The London derby was always a good game to watch and being present only amplified the tension you could feel through a screen. The derby had even higher stakes as Arsenal was following closely behind Chelsea in second place and while losing might not make them drop down on the ladder, it was an important game to win.

Sam never likes to lose, no one does really, she's even said herself she hates losing more than she likes winning, so to lose such a game to Chelsea's biggest rivals, you knew she would take it to heart.

It seems that your daughter has picked up on the trait.

Your eyes dart to the floor where your daughter now resides with tears rolling down her face. You crouch down and pull her into a sitting position with a concerned look on your face, "What's up hun? Are you hurt?" You ask confused as to why she had dropped to the floor.

Her hands went to her face as she was wiping her tears and simultaneously hiccuping, "Mama lose," A fresh wave of tears poured over the 2-year-old which, whilst you hated seeing your baby girl cry, brought you relief that she wasn't hurt.

You cooed as you picked her up and rested her on your hip, "Hey, it's ok. I know it can be really upsetting when things don't go our way and I know that we all wanted Mama to win, but it's ok. It happens sometimes and Mama will get them back next time, ok?" You bounced slightly while rubbing her back, trying to prevent a full-blown tantrum in the middle of a very busy stadium.

"But why!?" Your daughter screeched.

"Hey, hey, none of that, please. I understand your upset but we don't yell at Mummy, ok?" When you felt her nod into the crook of your neck you kissed her temple, "Sometimes the other team plays really well, and sometimes our team doesn't play as well as they can and as we know, mistakes happen. There are lots of things that could have happened but that's ok. We can't win all the time, even though we really want to."

"But Mama be sad." Adelia whimpered.

You pouted to yourself at how sweet your kid was, "Well, I know whenever I'm sad, you cheer me up so how about we go see Mama and see if you can cheer her up, yeah?" Adelia perked up at the idea and quickly wiped her tears.

You walked down to the barrier and got Sam's attention who then began to make her way over, "Hey, munchkin," She said as she reached the two of you, "Hey, y/n/n," She greeted you with a quick kiss and pulled Adelia over the barrier.

Adelia took Sam's face between her chubby little hands and gave Sam a kiss on the nose, "Mama, ok?" Sam nudged her nose into Adelia's cheek which brought out a giggle.

"I will be, thank you chicken." You smiled at your girls.

That night after you and Sam had put Adelia to sleep you were cuddling on the couch, "A was really upset when the whistle rang today, think you've rubbed off on her." You looked up at Sam with a little smirk.

"She is her Mama's girl, isn't she?" Sam smirked back.

You groaned into her chest, "It's not a good thing, Sammy," You giggled.

"Well, she seemed pretty happy when she saw me?" Sam accused defensively.

"Yeah, because of my awesome parenting skills," You countered.

Sam kissed the top of your head and sighed, "You are pretty awesome,"

You sighed contently with her, "I know,"

"Oi, cheeky," She laughed and you distracted her by planting a kiss onto her lips, smiling into the kiss.

[meazalykov]

the call

lena oberdorf x bayern!reader

summary: the best day of your life turns into the worst

warnings: made up champions league results, angst, mentions of suicide!!!, death, mentions of depression, sibling loss, grief, ends with acceptance, this is fictional but please be warned before reading.

the roar of the stadium is deafening, the energy screaming through your entire body as the champions league final reaches its climax. 

the evening lights above you are blinding, but you barely notice them. you barely notice anything except the ball at your feet and the defenders swarming in. your heart pounds, and your legs burn from the intensity of the game, but you’ve never felt more alive.

this is the moment you’ve dreamed of since you first laced up a pair of cleats. the moment that feels almost surreal, like you’re floating above the pitch, watching it all unfold.

bayern is facing chelsea in lisbon, and it’s been a grueling ninety minutes, plus extra time. 2-2 on the scoreboard, with only seconds left. 

the final, the biggest game of your life, and everything rests on this moment.

your mind races. the game is balanced on a knife's edge, and you know that one moment could change everything. one goal could make or break your dream of lifting the trophy. 

you’ve won the champions league before with lyon, but that was during a loan season you had with your last club. now, you hope to win the champions league with the club that has become your life. it gave you your love for football back, and it gave you the love of your life— lena. 

you glance toward the sideline, where lena is warming up, ready to come on. she’s been out for months—acl and mcl surgery had taken her off the field for nearly a year, but she’s back. 

today is only her second game since her return, and she’s been waiting for her moment again after getting the olympics taken away from her last summer..

the fourth official holds up the board for stoppage time as lena’s number flashes to replace pernille. 

she jogs onto the pitch, subbed in for the last few minutes of the match, and despite everything, your heart skips a beat seeing her out there. she’s worked so hard to get here, and you’ve been by her side through all of it. 

“let’s go,” she says as she passes you on the pitch, her voice filled with determination as she oats your shoulder. you nod, giving her a quick glance, the silent understanding between you both unspoken but clear.

the clock ticks into the 90th minute. chelsea pushes forward, looking for the winner, but bayern’s defense holds strong. you can feel the weight of the match pressing down on you as every second passes, the noise of the crowd swirling around you. 

it’s chaos, and yet somehow, amidst it all, there’s clarity.

two minutes later, the ball is cleared out of the bayern box, and it falls to lena just outside the center circle. she controls it beautifully, despite the pressure, her eyes scanning the field. you see her look up, searching for you, and you know what’s coming. you sprint forward, weaving between chelsea defenders, creating the space you need.

your german girlfriend passes the ball up to you, her pass perfectly timed, splitting chelsea’s defense wide open. it’s as if time slows down, the noise of the crowd fading away until all you can hear is your own heartbeat pounding in your ears. you know exactly what you need to do. 

this is instinct, muscle memory, all those hours of practice boiling down to a single strike.

with a quick glance at the goal, you see the opening. the chelsea keeper has shifted just slightly to her left, leaving a narrow space at the top right corner. without hesitation, you take the shot.

the ball leaves your foot with precision, spinning just right, and everything speeds up again. the roar of the crowd comes crashing back as the ball sails past the keeper’s outstretched fingers and buries itself in the back of the net.

goal!

for a moment, you’re frozen, unable to process what you’ve just done. then it hits you all at once. you’ve scored. in the champions league final. in the 92nd minute.

your teammates swarm you in seconds after you sprint to the corner of the pitch. you didn’t care about the yellow card you’re receiving by taking off your bayern jersey in celebration, something similar to what alexia putellas did in the last champions league final. 

your teammates arms pull you into a tight embrace as you drop to your knees, overwhelmed by the flood of emotions. 

joy, relief, disbelief—all of it crashes over you like a tidal wave. lena’s the first to reach you, her arms wrapping around you tightly, lifting you off the ground as she spins you around, her laughter mixing with yours.

“you fucking did it!” she shouts over the deafening noise of the crowd, her grin wide as she pulls back to look at you. her eyes are shining with pride and love, and for a brief moment, everything in the world is perfect.

you barely hear the final whistle over the chaos, but you feel it—the way your teammates explode with joy, the way the fans in the stands scream and chant your name. 

bayern is champions. you’ve done it. you’ve helped your team lift the most prestigious trophy in european football.

as the confetti rains down, you stand in the center of it all, your heart still racing, trying to soak in every second of the celebration. your teammates are all around you, cheering, hugging, lifting the trophy.

your eyes scan the crowd, searching for something—or rather, someone.

your family.

you’d hoped—against all odds—that maybe, somehow, they’d made it. you’d imagined seeing their faces in the stands, cheering you on, sharing in this once-in-a-lifetime moment. but as your eyes search the sea of faces, there’s no one familiar. 

no one from home.

you knew it was a long shot. they’re back in america, living their lives. it’s a long flight, and they’d have to take time off work, rearrange everything just to be here. but still, a part of you had hoped they would come. had hoped they’d make this a priority.

the ache in your chest grows as you realize they didn’t. they didn’t come.

you try to push the disappointment away, focusing on the celebrations, on the fact that you’ve just won the champions league. this should be the happiest moment of your life. you should be on top of the world. 

there’s a small, nagging emptiness that you can’t shake. the one thing you wanted, more than anything else, was to see your family here, in the stands, sharing this with you.

you take a deep breath, plastering a smile on your face as you turn back to the celebrations. you’ll deal with this later. you’ll process it when the confetti’s gone and the lights are dim.

lena’s family, though, is here. her parents, her siblings—they’ve made the trip, and they’re in the stands now, cheering and waving, just as excited as the bayern fans. as you make your way over to them, lena beside you, her hand warm in yours, her family’s faces light up. her mom is the first to reach out, pulling you into a tight hug.

“y/n! oh my god, you were amazing!” her mom gushes, her arms squeezing you so tight you almost can’t breathe.

“thank you,” you manage, smiling as you hug her back. 

“i’m just so glad we won!”

“we’re so proud of you,” her dad says, clapping you on the shoulder with a grin. 

“that goal—you had us on the edge of our seats!”

“you’re like a third daughter to me,” her mom continues, pulling back to look at you, her eyes warm. 

“we love you, and we couldn’t be prouder.”

you nod, swallowing the lump in your throat as their words sink in. they mean it. they really do. you’re part of their family, and in this moment, they’ve made you feel like you belong here. 

no matter how much love they show you, no matter how much they treat you as one of their own, the absence of your own family still lingers like a shadow over the night.

“thank you,” you say again, your voice a little quieter this time.

you stay with them for a while longer, lena’s arm around your waist, her thumb tracing soft circles on your hip. she knows. she always knows when something’s bothering you, even if you don’t say it. 

for now, she lets you have your moment with her family, understanding that you need this, that you need to feel like you belong somewhere tonight.

eventually, the celebrations wind down, and the exhaustion of the day starts to settle into your bones. the adrenaline begins to fade, leaving you drained, physically and emotionally. all you want is to get back to the hotel with lena, collapse into bed, and let the day finally sink in.

“ready to go?” lena asks, her hand still in yours as you both start making your way toward the exit.

“yeah,” you sigh, glancing around one last time at the stadium. 

“let’s go.”

just as you reach the lobby, your coach approaches you, his face serious in a way that immediately sets off alarm bells in your mind.

“y/n,” he says quietly, his tone careful, like he’s trying to brace you for something. 

“can i talk to you for a minute?”

you glance at lena, confusion and concern flashing across her face as she looks back at you. you nod at her, squeezing her hand before letting go. 

“i’ll be right back,” you say, trying to keep your voice steady.

you’re nervous. you scored the goal needed to win the champions league final. was alex going to tell you that you made a mistake? was he going to tell you that bayern isn’t renewing their contract with you? you know that's not possible, you already agreed to a three year extension. 

following your coach to a quiet corner of the lobby, your heart starts to race again. this time, it’s not from the excitement of the game. something’s wrong. you can feel it.

“what’s going on?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

he hesitates for a moment, his eyes searching yours before he finally speaks.

“there’s been an emergency,” he says, his voice low, almost apologetic. “back home with your family.”

your stomach drops. the room feels like it’s closing in around you, the air suddenly too thick to breathe.

“what kind of emergency?” you ask, your voice shaking now.

he pauses again, and you know—before he even says the words—you know.

“it’s your younger sister,” he says softly. 

“according to your agent– she… she passed away.”

you feel like the floor has dropped out from under you. everything around you blurs, the world spinning as your brain struggles to process the words. your sister. passed away.

“no,” you whisper, shaking your head as if that will make it untrue. 

“no, that can’t be right.”

“i’m so sorry, y/n,” your coach says, his voice heavy with sorrow. 

“i have to tell you before you find out from anyone else by following bayern’s protocol– your sister passed away from suicide.”

the word hits you like a physical blow, knocking the breath from your lungs. you can’t think, can’t breathe, can’t do anything except stand there, frozen in place as the reality of what he’s just said crashes over you.

suicide.

your sister is gone.

“no…” the word leaves your lips in a broken sob as you crumble, your legs giving out beneath you. your coach catches you, helping you to sit on a nearby bench, but you barely feel his hands on your shoulders. you barely feel anything at all.

how can this be real? how can she be gone?

you don’t know how long you sit there, numb, before lena is suddenly by your side, her arms wrapping around you, her voice soft in your ear.

“oh my god, y/n,” she whispers, her voice thick with emotion. 

“i’m so sorry, baby. i’m so, so sorry.”

you cling to her, your tears soaking into her shirt as the sobs wrack your body. your mind is spinning, grief and disbelief tearing through you like a storm.

your mind didn’t allow you to deny it. your younger sister suffered from depression for a long time.

the weight of your coach’s words crashes down on you like a wave, pulling you under, suffocating you. your younger sister, gone. the word “suicide” echoes in your mind, each syllable like a knife cutting deeper and deeper into your chest. 

your entire body feels numb, but your heart is racing, your mind spinning out of control as you try to grasp the reality of what you’ve just been told.

lena’s arms wrap around you, holding you tightly as you break down, but even her warmth can’t reach the depth of the hollow ache that’s taken over your chest. it’s all too much. the best night of your life—scoring the equalizer in the champions league final—has been shattered into the worst nightmare you could have ever imagined.

your sister. your baby sister.

“no,” you whisper, the word barely audible as the sobs start to break through your chest. 

“this can’t be real. this can’t be happening.”

lena doesn’t say anything, her hand running through your hair, holding you as you crumble into her. 

“i’m so sorry,” she whispers softly, her voice breaking.

“i have to go home,” you choke out between sobs, the words thick in your throat. 

“i need to go home. i have to… i have to be with my family.”

“i’m coming with you,” lena says, her voice firm but gentle.

“no,” you protest, shaking your head weakly. 

“you need to stay. this is your career, you’re coming back from nearly a year long injury, i can handle this on my own.”

you don’t even believe yourself. you don’t know how you’re going to handle this, how you’ll survive the tidal wave of grief that’s already threatening to drown you. still, you try to fight it, the guilt in your chest whispering that you don’t deserve her support right now.

“y/n,” lena says, cupping your face in her hands, forcing you to meet her gaze. her eyes are red with unshed tears, but there’s a fierce determination in them. 

“you’re not going through this alone. i’m coming with you. end of discussion.”

you want to argue, but you can’t. the grief is too heavy, the shock too deep. you nod, collapsing back into her embrace, because you don’t have the strength to push her away.

the next few days blur together. the long, silent flight back to america, the weight of every message from your family, the funeral plans, the condolences pouring in from people who don’t know the depth of your pain. nothing makes sense. 

it’s as if the world has stopped spinning, and you’re left standing in the wreckage, trying to make sense of it all.

when you finally arrive at your family home, your older sister is the one waiting for you. the moment you see her, the dam inside you breaks all over again. her face is pale, her eyes hollow, and you can see the weight of grief on her shoulders, but there’s something more there—something you don’t want to acknowledge yet.

“y/n,” she whispers as she pulls you into a tight embrace, her body shaking against yours. 

“god, i’m so sorry you had to find out the way that you did.”

“what happened?” you ask, your voice cracking as you pull back to look at her. you haven’t been able to bring yourself to ask this yet—too scared of the answers. but now, standing in front of her, you need to know.

being the middle child, you had your older sister to lean onto. your brain doesn’t want to believe that its just the two of you now, not three.

your older sister hesitates, her eyes filling with tears as she struggles to find the words. she swallows hard, and you can tell she’s been trying to hold it together for everyone else, but now, in front of you, she’s breaking.

“i found her,” she says softly, her voice trembling. 

“i was the one who found her, y/n.”

the words hit you like a freight train, your legs almost giving out beneath you. your older sister. the one who always tried to protect you both. she was the one who walked into that room. you can’t even imagine the horror of it, the moment she saw your baby sister like that.

“how?” you ask, your voice barely a whisper, though you’re not sure you really want to hear the answer.

your sister takes a deep, shaky breath. 

“she… she poisoned herself in her bedroom. the bottles were everywhere. i-i was supposed to meet her for lunch. when she didn’t answer, i went over, and…”

her voice cracks, and the sobs finally break through. you reach out to her, but your hands are shaking so much that you don’t know if you’re comforting her or yourself. the guilt presses down on your chest like a thousand-pound weight, suffocating you.

“we didn’t know she was hurting like this,” your sister continues, her voice thick with tears. 

“we thought she was getting better. she didn’t want to talk about it, didn’t want us to worry. but, y/n… the note said it because of soccer– because of her injury.”

her words stop you cold. “soccer?”

your sister nods, tears streaming down her face. 

“she couldn’t make it. she didn’t get the contracts due to her spine. she thought she wasn’t good enough. she thought she was a failure.”

the guilt hits you harder than anything you’ve ever felt before, crushing you under its weight. you suddenly felt like your success, your career—everything you’ve worked for—had been killing her. 

you were living her dream, and it had destroyed her. the very thing that had made your life complete had shattered hers.

“this is my fault,” you whisper, barely able to get the words out. 

“i should have known. i should have… i should have been there.”

“no,” your sister says quickly, shaking her head, her hands gripping your arms. 

“it’s not your fault, y/n. you couldn’t have known.”

you can’t hear her. you can’t hear anything over the roar of guilt and grief pounding in your ears. your baby sister had been suffering, and you hadn’t seen it. she had felt like she wasn’t enough, like she was a failure because she didn’t make it in soccer, and you had been too focused on your own career to notice her pain.

“she told me once,” your sister continues, her voice trembling, 

“that she wished she could be as good as you. that she wished she could make it, too. she didn’t blame you once, y/n. she was just struggling. she didn’t want to burden anyone with how bad it had gotten.”

the words twist the knife in your chest. you should have noticed. you should have known. how could you have missed it? how could you have let her feel so alone in her pain?

“i was too focused on myself,” you whisper, the tears spilling down your cheeks as the realization crashes over you. 

“i was too focused on my career, on making it, and i didn’t see that she needed me while I moved to france then germany. i didn’t see how much she was hurting.”

“y/n, stop,” your sister says, her voice desperate as she pulls you into another hug. 

“you can’t blame yourself. this isn’t your fault.”

you do. how can you not? you were the one living her dream. you were the one playing at the top, while she struggled to find her place after injuring her spine. how can you not feel like you were the reason she’s gone?

the funeral feels like a blur. you stand by your sister’s grave, lena at your side, her hand gripping yours tightly as they lower the casket into the ground.

this was final. her death was final. there she will lay until the end of time.

the sobs choke you, but no matter how many tears you shed, it doesn’t feel like it will ever be enough to ease the guilt gnawing away at you.

“i should’ve been there for her,” you whisper to lena, your voice barely audible as you stare at the grave. 

“i should’ve seen the signs.”

lena wraps her arms around you, pulling you into her warmth, but even that can’t break through the storm of grief. 

“you couldn’t have known, y/n. she didn’t let anyone in.”

“i was supposed to protect her,” you say, your voice cracking as the tears spill down your face again. 

“i was her big sister. she looked up to me, and i wasn’t there when she needed me.”

lena holds you tighter, her voice soft in your ear. 

“you can’t carry that weight, love. you didn’t know.”

you do carry it. the guilt settles deep in your bones, a constant reminder that while you were out there living your dream, your sister was suffering in silence. the pain of it tears through you like a storm, and no matter how many people tell you it’s not your fault, you can’t shake the feeling that you should’ve done more.

three months after the funeral, the international break comes sooner than you expected. after a tough preseason and the emotional turmoil of the past few months, you’re finally called up to represent your country again, this time in the united states. 

lena, too, gets the call for germany, her first time back with the national team since her acl and mcl injuries. it’s a bittersweet feeling—being away from her after spending all that time together, healing both physically and emotionally. 

your girlfriend might have the chance to play in the 2025 euros, and you're so proud of her. honestly, you hope that you'll be able to watch her play and reach the final again-- this time winning.

you know how important this is for her. she needs this. she needs her space to shine again, to remind herself that she’s still capable of greatness.

"i’ll miss you, but you need this,” you tell her before leaving, cupping her face in your hands. 

"just take care of that knee, okay?"

lena smiles, her hand gently covering yours. 

“i will. and you better score some goals while i’m gone.”

you both laugh, though there’s a tinge of sadness underneath. as much as you’ve leaned on her through your grief, you’re learning to stand on your own again. so, you board the plane to the states, knowing this break will be good for both of you.

it’s strange, being back in america. the last time you were here, it was for your sister’s funeral. this time, it’s different. this time, you’re playing for something—something that feels bigger than you. 

your heart pounds as you step onto the miami pitch for the match against australia, the lights of the stadium casting long shadows over the grass. 

you can feel the weight of your sister’s absence, but in a way, it also feels like she’s there with you, watching from somewhere far beyond. well, if you believe in that of course.

the match against australia is high-energy, with the crowd cheering from the first whistle. you’ve been waiting for this moment—an opportunity to step onto the field again, to do what you love.

today, there’s something different about the way you play. today, every step, every touch of the ball is charged with emotion, with memories of your sister.

in some ways, you're playing more aggressively than usual. this might be a way for you to physically take some of the pain away.

your passes are sharp and harsh, but not sloppy. in fact, they're accurate and perfect. a 100% pass rate on the charts.

early in the first half, the game is still scoreless. you’re playing in the midfield, controlling the pace, looking for openings.

in the 20th minute, you spot one—a quick exchange with mallory and suddenly you’re in space. you sprint down the left side, cutting inside to avoid australia’s defenders. 

the ball comes back to your feet just outside the box. without hesitating, you take a powerful shot before ellie had the chance to stop you. the ball curls past the keeper into the top right corner of the net.

it’s a beautiful strike, clean and precise. the crowd erupts, you feel the rush of exhilaration, but your mind is elsewhere.

you raise both your hands as you reach the corner of the pitch, pointing to the sky. your other hand goes to your ear, like you’re holding a phone, like you’re calling her. 

you hope she’s listening. the gesture is for your sister, the first goal of the game dedicated to her.

the tears in your eyes wanted to fall, but they didn't. your teammates surrounded you in hugs and you took that moment to wipe your eyes from the public as your friends gave you praises.

everyone knew about your sister's death. people who went to your sister's college and witnessed the spinal injury that led to her downfall were hurt by the news.

the whole community was grieving, and everyone wanted to find peace with it.

as the match goes on, you feel that familiar rhythm settle in. by the second half, your team is up 1-0, but you’re still hungry for more. 

in the 58th minute, the opportunity comes again. you’re in the box this time, just off a corner kick. the ball is bouncing around in the chaos, defenders scrambling to clear it, but it lands at your feet. with a quick flick, you volley it toward the goal. the keeper dives, but it’s too late—the ball slips under her arm and into the net. your second goal of the match.

you look at sam coffey-- the closest teammate to you. you hug her and the rest of the teammates who run up to you, happy to see you thriving in such a hard time.

after everyone goes back to their positions, breaking the group hug, you look at the cameras and hold up the number six. one finger on your left hand and all five fingers with your right hand.

your younger sister’s number before she was forced to stop playing. 

the fans noticed that every goal is for her, for your sister who can’t be here to see you play. you hope she’s watching. you hope she knows how much you miss her.

the third goal comes in the 85th minute. you’re tired now, the heat of the match wearing you down, but you push through, determined to finish strong.

emma asked if you needed a break from the pitch, but you tell her no. you needed this. 

the ball comes to you on a fast break, your team surging forward after a clearance. you sprint down the center, your heart pounding in your chest, the crowd’s roar fueling you. just as you reach the edge of the box, you receive a perfect pass from emily. you take one touch, then another, before sliding the ball past the onrushing keeper and into the bottom left corner.

hat trick.

the stadium erupts, your teammates rush toward you, but once again, your celebration is quiet. 

you point to the sky, your hand pressed to your ear like you’re making that call again, the one you’ll never get to make.

your sister should be here. she should be watching this-- no.. she should be playing with you now, living this with you.

instead, all you have are these moments, these gestures that feel like whispers into the void.

after the game, when the final whistle blows and your team celebrates the 3-0 victory over australia, you’re pulled aside for an interview. 

the camera’s on you, the reporter asking about your performance, about your goals, and for the first time, you decide to speak openly about your sister.

“i’ve been playing with her on my mind,” you say, your voice steady but heavy with emotion. 

“my sister… she loved football more than anyone i’ve ever known. she was determined, sweet, and had the best sense of humor. she made everyone laugh. i’ve been playing for her, trying to honor her in any way i can.”

you don’t cry during the interview, but your chest aches. it’s clear to anyone watching how deeply you miss her, how much you wish she could be here. the reporter doesn’t press for more, understanding the weight of what you’ve shared, and you’re grateful for that. 

it feels like a release, finally speaking her name, telling the world what she meant to you.

later that night, back at the hotel, your phone rings. it’s lena. she’s calling from germany, where it’s 5:30 a.m. while it’s only 11:30 p.m. for you in the states. you know she’s probably exhausted after germany’s game against norway, but you answer, grateful to hear her voice.

“hey,” lena says, her voice soft, tired but filled with warmth. 

“i saw your game. a hat trick, huh?”

you smile, leaning back against the pillows. “yeah. it felt good. i… i dedicated them to her. i talked about her in the interview.”

there’s a pause on the other end, and you can hear lena’s breathing, steady and comforting. 

“i’m so proud of you, y/n. i know she would be too.”

“i think so,” you say quietly, your chest tight with emotion. 

“i’m okay, lena. i feel okay.”

you can hear the relief in her voice when she replies, 

“i’m glad. i wish i could be there with you.”

“soon,” you whisper, closing your eyes. 

“we’ll be together soon.”

after the international break, you return to germany, ready to play for bayern once again. something feels different now. there’s still grief, still moments when the weight of your sister’s absence threatens to pull you under, but there’s also a sense of peace. 

acceptance. 

you’re learning to live with the loss, to carry her memory with you in a way that feels lighter, more bearable.

when you return to germany, stepping off the plane and feeling the familiar chill of the air, you can sense that something inside you has shifted. it’s subtle, not a sudden transformation, but a quiet understanding that the weight you’ve been carrying has begun to ease. 

you still miss your sister. you will always miss her. 

after the international break, after scoring that hat trick and speaking about her for the first time publicly, there’s a sense of release, a small spark of acceptance beginning to form.

it doesn’t come all at once. when you arrive back at bayern’s training ground, the routine feels both comforting and daunting. the familiar faces of your teammates greet you, their smiles and hugs filled with warmth. some of them had seen your interview after the australia game. they know what you’ve been going through, at least on some level. 

they don’t push you to talk, but their quiet support is always there, whether it’s in a gentle hand on your back after a tough drill or a knowing glance across the field.

training is tough—intense, even. the season is approaching fast, and the pressure to perform is ever-present. but for the first time in a long while, you feel more connected to the game, more present in your body, and less haunted by the thoughts that used to cloud your every move on the pitch. 

you start to find joy in playing again, not just as an escape, but as a way to honor your sister. every pass, every shot, every tackle feels like a small tribute to her, a way of keeping her close without letting the grief consume you.

there are still hard days. days when you wake up and the weight of her absence presses down on you before you even step out of bed. you think about how much she loved football, how it was her dream to be where you are now, and that familiar guilt creeps back in. 

lena is there, always grounding you, reminding you that your sister would want you to keep going, to keep playing, to live the life she couldn’t.

on one of those hard days, you’re at the training ground, going through drills, and your mind wanders. you think about her injury—how it wasn’t just a setback but the end of her dream. a spinal injury, something so unexpected, so final. 

she never had a chance to recover, never had a chance to fight for her place like you’ve been able to. she was so young, 19 years old– and it was taken from her, just like that. and then, when the depression set in, it wasn’t just the injury anymore—it was the loss of everything she had ever wanted. 

the loss of her future.

you push through the drills, the sweat dripping down your face as you try to focus on the here and now. it’s hard. your thoughts are swirling, and you can feel the familiar tightness in your chest, the way grief sneaks up on you when you least expect it.

after training, you sit alone on the bench, staring out at the pitch, lost in thought. the sun is setting, casting long shadows across the field, and for a moment, you let yourself sit with the grief. 

you don’t push it away this time. you let it wash over you, feeling the sadness, the guilt, the love you had for your sister. but there’s something else there too—a quiet acceptance. a small voice inside you that whispers, “she’s not suffering anymore.”

it’s that thought that brings you peace, however fleeting. you know your sister struggled, that her depression was a battle she couldn’t win. as much as you wish you could’ve done more, could’ve been there for her in ways you weren’t, you also know that her pain is over now. 

she’s at peace, even if you’re still finding your way through the aftermath.

lena finds you on the bench later that evening, after most of the team has left. she sits beside you without saying anything for a long time, just her presence beside you, solid and comforting. eventually, she speaks, her voice soft in the quiet of the evening.

“you’ve been different since the break,” she says, her eyes watching the last bit of daylight disappear behind the trees. 

“stronger, in a way.”

you nod, not sure how to put everything into words. “i think… i think i’m starting to accept it,” you say, your voice quiet but steady. 

“i’m never going to stop missing her, but i can’t let it break me anymore. she wouldn’t want that.”

lena reaches for your hand, her fingers lacing with yours. 

“no, she wouldn’t. she’d want you to live, y/n. to play. to be happy.”

the next few weeks pass in a blur of preparation for the season. as the first matches approach, you throw yourself into your training, focusing on your fitness, your sharpness, everything you need to be at your best. 

as the days go by, you start to feel more like yourself again. not the version of you before your sister’s death—that person is gone, changed by the grief and loss—but a new version of yourself. 

someone who carries the weight of that loss but also the strength that comes with surviving it.

before the season opener, you have a moment alone in the locker room, lacing up your boots and staring down at the bayern crest on your jersey. the nerves are there, the familiar pre-game tension, but there’s something else too—a quiet determination. 

this season is going to be different. not because you’re trying to outrun your grief, but because you’re choosing to carry it with you, to let it fuel you, to let it remind you of the love you had for your sister.

when you step onto the pitch for the first game, the crowd roars, and the energy in the stadium is electric. you feel it in your chest, the adrenaline, the excitement, but also the weight of everything you’ve been through. 

the game begins, and as soon as the ball is at your feet, it’s like muscle memory. you’re back in your element, weaving through defenders, finding your teammates, playing the game you love. 

you’re not playing for anyone else now, not for the expectations or the pressure. you’re playing for her. for the sister who loved football more than you ever could, who would’ve given anything to be in your shoes.

and for the first time in a long while, it feels right.

as the season progresses, you find yourself healing, little by little. there are still moments when the grief hits hard, when the memories sneak up on you, but you’ve learned how to live with it. you’ve learned how to carry it without letting it crush you.

you and lena spend more quiet evenings together, just talking, reflecting, or sometimes sitting in comfortable silence. she’s been your anchor through all of this, and you know that you couldn’t have made it through without her.

one night, after a particularly tough match, you’re both lying in bed, the exhaustion from the game settling into your bones. lena is tracing lazy patterns on your back, her touch soothing, grounding.

“do you think she’s proud of you?” lena asks quietly, her voice soft in the dim light of the room.

you think about it for a moment, feeling the familiar ache in your chest, but this time, it’s not as sharp. it’s bittersweet, but it’s bearable.

“yeah,” you whisper, a small smile tugging at your lips. “i think she is.”

you close your eyes, lena’s warmth beside you, and for the first time in a long time, you feel at peace. 

authors note: please inbox me if you're ever struggling or need someone to talk to. you're loved, I love you, and the world is a better place with you here in it.

masterlist

[russo-woso]

Our teammates | Amanda Ilestedt x reader

Summary You surprise Amanda by moving to Arsenal

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Before the international break, you and your girlfriend, Amanda, hadn't seen each other for just under two months.

You both play for the Swedish National Team but you played for Hammarby whereas Amanda played for Arsenal.

Over the international break, you and Amanda finally got to see each other again.

You felt at home when you with Amanda. You were in your happy place. You finally wore a real smile on your face.

You both played in the matches against Switzerland and Spain in the nations league.

After the unfortunate losses, you and Amanda had to say goodbye to each other.

It was an emotional moment.

You were both used to it, being far from each other, but it was hard. You both knew that when you started dating.

You returned to Sweden, to your normal life.

Waking up, going to training, FaceTiming Amanda at night, and then going to sleep.

It's what your day always consisted of.

Until that changed just a few days after your return from international break.

You currently had no upcoming games due to the winter break, but everyone was to still come to training so you're prepared after the break.

Whilst you were at training, your manager took you aside and took you into his office to talk to you.

And that's why you were currently sat inside of the Emirates stadium in an Arsenal shirt, a shirt you'd soon be playing in.

Your old manager had explained to you during the meeting that Arsenal had put in a record breaking bid for you, a bid that Hammarby accepted.

You were now waiting inside the stadium waiting to watch Arsenal vs Chelsea.

The day prior, you had arrived at the stadium to sign and confirm your new contract.

You hadn't told Amanda you had signed, you were planning on surprising her today at the match.

It had only been a few days yet you felt like you hadn't seen her in weeks.

You couldn't wait to hold her again, to kiss her.

————————

The match had gone in arsenals favour.

With a 4-1 win over Chelsea, you got to experience the atmosphere from a winning emirates stadium.

The fans chanted from kickoff until the final whistle.

It was safe to say that you couldn't wait to play in front of them.

As the team did their lap of the stadium, you caught Stina's eye and a smile appeared on her face.

You watched her run over to Amanda, pointing at wear you sat.

You had decided to sit amongst the fans, front row so you could access the pitch easily when Amanda saw you.

And it's a good job you chose to do that, because the next minute, Amanda was flinging herself over the barrier and clinging onto you.

"Hi, min kärlek." You whispered in her ear as you continued to hug her.

"What are you doing here? You should be training, in Sweden." Amanda asked, confused, as you pressed light kisses on her face.

"I am training. I'm learning all my teammates chants. What's McCabe's one again? We've got McCabe, Katie McCabe..." You tell her and the confusion on her face expands.

"Teammates? Your teammates? Kärlek, do you mean my teammates?" Amanda questioned and rests a hand on your cheeks, rubbing her thumb gently.

"No, I definitely mean mine. Baby, I'm moving to arsenal. I signed my contract yesterday." You revealed and once again, Amanda jumped onto you, tears welling in her eyes.

"This is incredible, Y/N. We can finally be together."

"I know, babe. I can't wait for our new adventure together." You said and put her down, leaning in to place your lips on hers, receiving a loud cheer from your new teammates.

"I love you so much." She told you after you pulled apart.

"I love you too."

"Come onto the pitch, I'll introduce you to our teammates."