#woso fluff

[baeksqt]

𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐍 — lena oberdorf

lena oberdorf x dallas cowboys cheerleader!reader

(a/n: can you tell this is a british person who wrote this?? i’ve always had an odd obsession with those ladies so but anyways lena oberdorf, my shayla >_< I hope you enjoyed this one, i’m thinking of doing a two part for this, lemme know if you would like that and happy reading x)

word count: 1986

genre: fluff

summary: two different worlds, colliding in the most unexpected of places—yet somehow, it felt like they were exactly where they were meant to be.

As you adjusted your glittering blue uniform, the scorching Texas sun cast its unwavering gaze upon AT&T Stadium, making the atmosphere both electrifying and intense. The fabric of your outfit shimmered brilliantly, reflecting the light with every slight movement, and the heat enveloped you like a warm embrace. You stood tall and proud as the centrepiece of the Dallas Cowboys Cheerleaders, a position you had dreamt about since your earliest memories of watching those iconic routines on television, captivated by the energy and precision.

You were focused on tonight’s performance, where an international friendly match between the USWNT and Germany’s national team took place. It wasn’t every day a soccer match took over their football stadium, and you were eager to see how the crowd would react to the shift in energy.

Among the German players warming up was Lena, the star midfielder known for precision and aggression on the field. Lena was as disciplined as she was fearless—a footballer who’d grown up training in the rainy fields of Gevelsburg. She was fiercely proud of her roots, yet found herself intrigued by this massive, almost theatrical American sports culture.

The game unfolded with an intensity that crackled in the air, but amidst the thrumming excitement, Lena’s gaze was irresistibly drawn to the vibrant splashes of colour and dynamic movement spiralling down the staircases among the throngs of spectators. The cheerleaders, clad in striking uniforms that shimmered in the arena lights, led a fervent cacophony of cheers and chants that resonated through the crowd, their infectious energy sweeping over everyone present. It was unlike anything she had ever experienced back home, a captivating display of spirit and camaraderie that left her spellbound.

The halftime break arrived with a pulse of excitement rippling through the massive crowd. The game was tense, and the U.S. and German teams were locked in a fierce battle, but for the next few minutes, all eyes would be on you and the Dallas Cowboys Cheerleaders.

You took a deep breath, standing tall at the edge of the field, feeling the electric energy in the air. The opening chords of AC/DC’s Thunderstruck blasted through the speakers, and the crowd erupted. This was the routine—fast, furious, and legendary. The kind of performance that could make even the toughest sceptics believe in the art of cheerleading.

From the sideline, Lena sat on the bench in the technical area, water bottle forgotten in her hand. She has seen plenty of halftime shows in her career, but nothing like this. The music thumped in her chest as you sprang to life, every movement precise and explosive. Your hair whipped around as you launched into high kicks, your blue rhinestone-studded stars sparkled under the stadium lights.

The choreography was relentless. Sharp motions that synced perfected with the pounding drumbeat, pom-poms slicing through the air with military precision. You moved with such confidence, such undeniable magnetism, that Lena found herself frozen, mesmerised.

“They’re incredible, aren’t they?” Sara murmured beside her, but Lena barely heard. Her eyes were fixed on you, whose smile radiated pure joy, body moving with an effortless grace that only came from years of dedication. As you dropped into the squad’s signature kickline, the entire stadium roared in approval. You stole a glance towards the sideline��just for a second, and caught Lena watching you intently, eyes wide with admiration. A rush of heat flooded your chest, and you pushed yourself even harder, feeding off the connection you felt from across the field.

Lena’s heart pounded, though she wasn’t sure if it was from the music or the way your energy seemed to wrap around her like a lasso. She had always thought football was the ultimate rush, but this? This was something else entirely. She watched you flip, spin, and land with flawless precision, your spirit seemingly untouchable.

As the routine built to its climactic finish with the cheerleaders launching into a gravity-defying jump split, the stadium shook with applause. Lena found herself cheering along with the crowd, a rare uninhibited smile breaking across her face. As the final notes of the music faded and you struck your last pose, breathing heavily but wearing a wide, triumphant grin, you turned your gaze toward the sideline once more. The vibrant energy around you was palpable, and your eyes locked with Lena's across the field, a connection forged amid the exhilarating chaos of the performance.

The stadium lights still burned bright long after the game had ended in a tense draw, the buzz of excitement still lingering in the air. You and your teammates lingered along the sidelines, feeling the residual adrenaline still coursing through your veins. But now, with the game over, you found yourself feeling oddly restless as you interacted with the young girls in the stands, helping them take photos with their fellow football idols.

Your eyes wandered across the field, where the German players were cooling down, stretching, and exchanging jerseys with their American counterparts. Among them was her, the striking brunette midfielder who had been impossible to ignore during the match. You had noticed Lena the moment she stepped onto the field, the fierce focus and effortless control of the ball captivating in a way that you hadn’t expected. And when she caught Lena watching the halftime performance, you felt something shift.

Lena, too, had felt it.

She was still replaying the halftime show in her head, the pounding rhythm of Thunderstruck echoing in her ears. German football culture was all about discipline and rigour, but what she witnessed was pure fire. And it fascinated her.

As Lena pulled off her sweat-drenched jersey and wiped her face with it, she spotted you standing by the tunnel, chatting with your teammates but glancing her way now and then. Summoning her courage, Lena handed her jersey off and made her way across the field.

Your stomach flipped when you realised Lena was heading your way, tall and athletic, her dark hair tousled from the game. You played it cool, offering a bright smile as Lena approached. “Nice performance,” Lena said in her slightly accented English, her lips curling into an easy, lopsided grin. “I didn't know football had…entertainment like that.”

You twirled a pom-pom absentmindedly as you laughed. “Well, soccer, not usually. But we like to put on a show here in Texas. Gotta give the fans something to cheer for, right?”

“But you were amazing out there. I’ve never seen someone control the game like you do.” You nudged her, pom-pom crinkling in hand.

Lena’s cheeks flushed slightly, and she looked down, kicking at the turf. “Thanks,” she said softly, “but I think you might have beat me in the whole crowd control department.”

“Guess we both have our talents.” You winked.

There was a moment of silence, not awkward but filled with the weight of something new and intriguing. You shifted in your boots, then glanced towards the tunnel, hearing your directors call your name as well as Lena’s teammates calling out for her.

As you glanced back at Lena, a sense of urgency reflected in her captivating gaze. “Well, Lena, it was a pleasure meeting you,” you said, your voice tinged with a mix of warmth and urgency. “I hope you had a wonderful time in Dallas. Safe travels!” There was a sparkle in your eyes as you took one last look at her, committing her features to memory before you turned and jogged off toward your waiting coworkers, the lively chatter of the group drawing you back into the moment.

Before Lena could find the words to respond, you had already turned away, your footsteps quickening as you joined your teammates. The air between you felt heavy with unspoken feelings, and she let out a soft sigh, trying to suppress the flicker of disappointment that threatened to surface. Yet, deep down, she vowed to herself that this wouldn’t be the last time your paths crossed.

You left your locker room cladded in your Cowboys sweats, boots clicking across the vinyl floor, on the hunt for the bathroom, using it as an excuse to get away from your prying teammates who questioned what happened between you and “that German girl.”

Turning a corner, you begin to hear the chatter of the German team, playful shrieks being thrown as you saw them file out of their locker room, you stood against the wall as the players walked past you, exchanging thank yous and goodbyes. Your eyes searched for Lena as she left the room, laughing with one of her teammates.

Her eyes lit up as she met yours, standing adjacent to you on the wall to allow her team to walk in front of the two of you. A couple of the ladies patted her shoulder with knowing glances as they walked past.

She appeared vibrant and youthful, her cheeks flushed with a rosy hue that contrasted beautifully with her smooth complexion. Her hair was styled in a bun, showcasing the delicate contours of her face. “I knew you’d find me,” you teased with a smile, the words playful and light. As you both strolled side by side, each slow step felt deliberate, as if you were trying to savour every moment and stretch out the time spent together.

“Couldn’t help myself,” Lena said with a nonchalant shrug, her eyes darting momentarily away as a palpable silence settled between them. She hesitated, her fingers nervously twisting the strap of her bag, a subtle sign of her apprehension. A flicker of uncertainty crossed her face, as if weighing her next words carefully in the stillness.

“So, listen,” she said with an easy smile, “we’re having a little after-party tonight. Some of the team rented out a place downtown. You should come.”

Your heart skipped a beat as you halted your steps. For a moment, idea of letting loose, spending more time with Lena, and stepping outside the tight bubble of her DCC world was intoxicating. But then reality set in like a bucket of cold water.

The Dallas Cowboys Cheerleaders had strict rules about fraternisation with players, whether football or otherwise. No dating, no hanging out, no exceptions. Even though Lena wasn’t an NFL player, you knew it was a grey area that could get you in serious trouble. You had worked too hard to get here, sacrificed too much to risk it all for a night of fun—no matter how tempting Lena’s invitation was.

“I’d love to, really.” You bit your lip, as Lena’s eyes lit up. “But we have some…rules.” you said carefully, fiddling with the sleeves of your sweatshirt. “Cheerleaders and players aren’t really supposed to hang out.”

Lena raised an eyebrow, surprised. “Even when it’s not your team?”

“Even then,” you sighed. “It’s a whole image thing. They want us to be, you know, untouchable or something.” You bounced your leg anxiously.

The tall brunette frowned, leaning in slightly. “That’s ridiculous,” she said, a hint of defiance in her voice. “We’re just people. It’s not like I’m asking you to break the law.”

You let out a small chuckle. “Try telling that to my directors. They’d have me benched for the rest of the season.”

Lena studied your face for a moment, then shrugged with a playful grin. “Okay. So, what if I promise to keep my distance? I mean, we could pretend I’m just a fan. I’ll even act starstruck if it helps.”

“You? Starstruck?” You couldn’t help but laugh “I’d love to see that.”

“Then come. Just for an hour.” Lena tilted her head, eyes twinkling. “I promise no one will even know we’re there together.”

You hesitated, torn between your cautious instincts and the undeniable pull towards Lena. Breaking the rules, even bending them, could cost you everything you had worked for. But then you looked at Lena, at the way she stood there, so open, so genuine—and something inside you whispered, take the chance.

[pitchsidestories]

under pressure II Barcelona Femení x Teen!Reader

masterlist | word count: 1829

summary: reader takes it too far in training and must live with the consequences. But no one sees the pressure which is weighing down heavy on her young shoulders.

author's note: dear readers, the oneshot was inspired by this request here, enjoy. In this story Lucy Bronze didn't leave Barcelona. <3

Training had started two minutes ago.

You rushed onto the training pitch, throwing your school stuff down into the grass and quickly slipped into your football boots. You were silently praying to whoever would listen that you would get away with being late.

Right as you stood up and wanted to join the rest of the team, you heard your coachs’ voice from across the field: “That’s strike one, it better not get to strike three.“

You frowned at him. “I’m only two minutes late!”, you protested, frustrated because you had done everything possible to make it to FC Barcelonas trainings grounds in time.

“And she had school.“, Ona added quickly. She had stopped her warm-up to help you out.

You shot her a quick grateful look.

“She knows when training starts.“, Pere replied unusually cold.

You swallowed everything you wanted to say. That it wasn’t your fault. That your Spanish teacher hadn’t let you go at the ring of the bell and that you tried to make up for it by running all the way from the metro station.

You nodded slowly: “We can start now…“

“Good.“, Pere said, turning back towards the rest of the group.

You joined your teammates on the pitch, deliberately ignoring the quick look Ona and Lucy exchanged when they thought you didn’t see them.

You flinched when someones arm suddenly brushed against yours.

“You’re good? No trouble in school?”, Aitana asked you with concern in her voice.

“No, Tana, it’s fine…“, you replied, jogging beside her.

“I’m just asking. You know I can help.“

A small smile tugged on the corners of your mouth. Aitana was always the first to offer her help with school stuff and while you didn’t need it at the moment, her asking meant a lot to you.

“Girls!“, Peres voice called them to the centre of the pitch where he explained your first exercise.

Twenty minutes later, you had your first drinking break. While you sipped on your water, you sneaked a quick look at your phone and quickly replied to a message.

Just your luck, you were caught breaking the team rules once again.

“Y/n!”

You looked up into Peres disappointed face and sighed: “Sorry, it was important!”

“No phones on the training pitch, you know that. That’s strike two.“

“But…“

You had no chance to explain yourself.

“You know that.“, he repeated.

Your frustration reached a new height. In your opinion, you hadn’t done anything wrong. They were small trivial things that didn’t interrupt training, there was no reason to make such a big deal out of it. Especially not after the day you just had.

“Oh, for fucks sake! I know but I also told you that the message was important!”, you exploded.

You and Pere seemed both surprised by the words that had just come out of your mouth.

“Cursing too?”, he asked with a sigh.

You only blinked at him in shock.

“That was very Lucia of her. You can tell she’s living at her place!”, Mapi burst out laughing next to you. You had no idea what was happening around you.

The confusion you felt was reflected in Lucy’s face who turned around to look at the defender from Zaragoza. “Excuse me what?”

“She’s got a point. It sounds like you.”, Ingrid agreed smiling.

“True. They even share a similar glare.”, Keira of all people added in a teasing tone. The English midfielder lived with Lucy and you when you rose from La Masia to Barcelona’s A team. Then they broke up and found new partners, yet you could still sense the mutual respect between them, and both loved you fiercely like you were their younger sister.

“I don’t care where she has it from, you know we’re not cursing on the pitch.”, your coach intervened growling.

“Sorry, I didn’t..”, you apologized trying your hardest not to cry in front of the team. No one should see the invisible pressure which was weighing down heavy on your young shoulders.

“That’s your third strike. Pack your stuff and leave my training.”, Pere demanded, his voice dripping with disappointment.

“Shit.”, you thought to yourself. This day really couldn't have gone any worse. The pitiful glances of your teammates made it even more terrible.

“Now.”, your coach waved impatiently.

 “We’ll talk at home, kid, okay?”, Lucy gave you an encouraging pad on the shoulder.  

“’ ‘Kay.”, you muttered under your breath.

After you left the training pitch, there was a silence hanging over the team which Ona broke first. “She seemed under pressure, so be nice to her later, Luce.”

“What do you think I’m going to do? Yell at her?”, her girlfriend snorted in disbelief.

“No, we can do that together.”, the younger defender offered kindly.

“Don’t worry, Ona. I know what I’m doing.”, Lucy assured her partner.

“Could the couples get back to training again?”, Pere requested grudgingly.

“Sure.”, the English player nodded.

“He’s in a bad mood today, huh?”, Mapi asked her while they were doing an exercise together.

“Weirdly, he’s.”, Lucy responded but her thoughts circling more around you than your coach. She had to find out what exactly was bothering you so much that you were acting out in training which you never did before.

Once you arrived at home you laid down on the sofa, staring at the ceiling, unmoving, Narla, the dog snuggling on top of you, an hour had passed when you heard the turn of the keys, realizing absentmindedly.

“Oh, hi, Luce.”

The West Highland Terrier immediately jumped off to greet the English woman. You could hear her and Ona talking in the hallway, the Spaniard apparently went to the kitchen to cook coffee for the three of you.

“Hey, kiddo. How are you?”, Lucy asked concerned as you made space on the sofa for her, so she could sit on it too.

“Was he still angry at me when you girls left?”, you returned the question. With a weak smile on your lips, you corrected the older player. “Also, Oni said you should stop calling me like that I’m going to be eighteen soon.”

“I don’t care what Ona says, I’ll stop calling you that when you’re taller than me.”, she shrugged.

You couldn’t help yourself, you snorted at her comment.

“Rude! I’m the same height since forever.“

Lucy grinned: “Bad luck, kiddo.“

Laughing, you pushed her with your shoulder: “You’re so annoying.“

“Now tell me what’s going on with you today.“

Lucys question wiped the smile off of your face, the heaviness returned to your chest in an instant.

There was nothing for a moment, just the ticking of the clock in the background.

“The teachers said I’m good enough for university…“, you finally heard yourself say.

“What?”, Lucy asked, mirroring your exact response when you were told earlier that day. Your brain had screamed at you to be happy about it, that your hard work had payed off and you might be able fulfil your wish of studying. But at the same time, you were filled with dread and worry about the future. There were so many thoughts at once, they were impossible to disentangle.

“But no one in my family studied before…“, you voiced one of your biggest concerns.

You were surprised to see Lucy looking back at you with a relaxed expression.

“Stop overthinking it. This is amazing and you will do great!”

“What? You think so?”

Lucy gave a single, impatient nod: “Yeah of course I think that. If I could do it, you can do it too.“

You let the warmth of Lucys words wash over you.

“Do you think they would be proud of me? My parents?”, you whispered into the silence.

Navigating life was hard enough and it had only gotten harder when you had lost your parents a few years ago. Graduating and going to university might be two other milestones in your life that you wouldn’t be able to share with them.

“I’m sure. At least we’re all proud of you.“, Lucy replied unusually soft.

Ona joined the two of you on the sofa and pulled you in for a hug: “That’s true. God, you’re so smart. Smarter than me at your age.“

“But you’re smart too, Oni.“, you smiled into the crook of her neck.

“Yes, but not book-smart like you.“

“Still.“

Once Ona let go of you, you could breathe a little easier.

“So tomorrow we’ll explain everything to Pere. But for now, Lucy, would you…?”, Ona said.

“Would I what?”

You blinked at her innocently, completing Onas question: “Start cooking?”

Laughing, Lucy ruffled your hair: “Yes, I’ll make your favourite food.“

“Thank you.“, you smiled.

“You’re welcome.“

A year has passed since you had the meaningful conversation with Lucy and Ona. Through the help of your teammates you did succeed, even graduating with honours.  This would open many doors for you which you were incredibly grateful for, you certainly didn't take higher education for granted.

To celebrate your big achievement the team prepared a little party in the cafeteria.

“Congrats.”, Pere gave you a warm handshake.

“Thank you.”, you smiled happily.

“You did it.”, Ingrid beamed at you.

 “We’re so proud of you.”, Fridolina added in awe.

 “Proud indeed. Well done, y/n.”, Alexia congratulated, pulling you into a hug so you couldn’t see her teary eyes. But you noticed them even though she tried to hide her emotional state from you.

“She’s all grown up now.”, Mapi commented delighted before she hugged the two of you who were still standing in the middle of the room. Once you released each other you could feel the heat in your cheeks from all the attention you received.

“She’s still a kiddo to me.”, Lucy threw in with a very pleased smirk on her face.

“Hey, you heard Mapi though.”, you protested.

“Pretty sure you’re still not taller than me, kiddo.”, she countered laughing.

“Does that mean you’re a kid too because you’re smaller than Irene and Alexia?”, you asked her in a teasing tone.

“That’s not what I said.”, the English defender replied.

“I’m just following your logic here.”, you told her. Apparently, Lucy didn’t find an adequate answer to your observation as she swept you off your feed and carried you on her shoulder.

“Shut up.”, she chuckled amused.

“Let me down!”, you urged the older woman giggling.  

“Forget it, kiddo.”, she shook her head.

“Ugh. Girls help me!”, you groaned.

“Lucia, put her down. No injuries today please.”, Pere ordered.

“You heard him.”, you whispered.

“Lucky for you.”, Lucy responded while your feet touched the ground again.  

“Time to celebrate.”, Ona smiled.

“It’s so sweet of you guys to have a party for me. I wouldn’t have done it without all of you.”, you noted deeply moved by the effort your teammates had put into it.

“You deserve it, enjoy.”, Alexia hummed.

“Thank you.”

You knew you could always count on them, and they could no matter what count on you.

if you enjoyed this story reblogs, comments and likes are always appreciated !

[repulsiveliquidation]

Mikrokosmos || Grace Clinton

summary: Grace loved her little world. she didn't know if others would too.

a/n : i don't know what this is but it's fluff! there is insinuation of sex but nothing else.

Grace was a private person. She loved her people with her whole heart but she kept her work and family separate. Don’t get it wrong, she loved her team and adored being the baby but there was a bubble in her home that she didn’t want them in. 

Her mikrokosmos. 

There were two people in there that mattered more to her than football. She was willing to do anything at all to protect it from the outside world. 

You were sitting in a quiet little bookstore one day, your little nephew in your lap. He was munching on a bit of sausage from your sausage roll as you read a little novel in a corner. The smell of coffee mixed in with the books perfectly, you found yourself sitting here every other day to relax and get some peace away from your chaotic life. 

“Is this seat taken?” a Liverpool accent asks and it startles you a little. You look up and see the most beautiful pair of eyes looking down at you. The Liverpool accent smiles, pointing to the seat across from you. You stutter and nod, smiling at her awkwardly. 

“He’s cute,” the accent tells you, smiling at your nephew Jake. He giggles and the accent giggles back, her hand coming up to tickle his cheek. 

“Say hi Jakie,” you tell him, his hand grabbing at the girl tickling him. 

“Hi Jakie, I’m Grace,” she says, cooing when his little hand finds her finger. 

“He likes you,” you tell her, book and pastry forgotten. 

“That makes two of us,” she says with a grin, looking up at you. “What’s a pretty girl like you doing here with the cutest baby in the world?” 

“It’s quiet, plus he likes the strawberry tart Michelle makes.” 

She turns to Jake, who’s trying to eat your blouse, to boop his nose. “You, little man,” she begins, booping his nose again; he giggles, “have great taste.” 

Grace stands, eyes sparkling in your corner of the quiet bookstore cafe.

“Can I buy you another coffee and a tart for my new favorite person?” 

“Only if you promise to sit here a while and share.” 

“Deal.” 

“Baby! I’m home!” 

“Mama!” 

A two year old knocks into her knees and she picks him up, heart growing fonder when his little giggle rang through the living room. 

“Hi little buddy,” Grace smiles, walking into your office with Jake on her hip. He tucks his face in her neck, calming into her hold when he feels her rub his back. 

“Hi baby,” you greet Grace, looking up from your desk in the corner. Your heart melts when you see Jake already falling asleep in her arms; you were struggling to put him down for his nap earlier so he was a little grumpy at tea. 

Jake was your nephew but when your sister fell into some bad habits, he was about to go into the foster system. You loved him dearly and couldn’t bear the idea of leaving him so young so you made the decision to adopt him. He had always called you Mommy when he first spoke and didn’t know his mother to be his mother. She abandoned him when she got clean and wanted a new life abroad with her boyfriend so you raised him as your own. 

Sure it got your weird stares since you were so young and Jake looked alot like you since his mother looked like you too. But you didn’t care, he was going to be loved and cared for under your roof, who cared about who said what. 

When Grace came along, you warned her about the things you had heard people say about you. Her job would have only brought on more stress for you and her so you were prepared for her ‘i can’t do this’ speech on the second date.

But Grace surprised you with her honesty and willingness to work it out because she didn’t want to lose you and she certainly didn’t want to lose her little buddy. 

Grace was young and didn’t need to deal with a practical newborn and a girl who was still getting her life in order but she didn’t care. She wanted you both and she was willing to do what it took. 

One thing she did the best was protect you both from rude people and weird stares. She wasn’t afraid to call people out and make them feel bad for their behavior. It made you uncomfortable at first but when you saw that more and more people left you alone, you were grateful to her. 

“Jakie here needs his nap, I think,” she says, kissing his head. 

“I tried to but he refused so you’re welcome to try,” you tell her, watching as she got a cheeky grin on her face before disappearing for a while. You hear her faintly bargaining with a two year old down the hall before the only thing you hear is the traffic below and your rambling thoughts. 

Seeing the time and deciding to clock out of work and start on dinner, you walk out of your office after turning everything off. 

Grace isn’t in the bedroom or the living room where she usually is so you tiptoe to Jake’s room. 

Grace was in his bed with him on top of her, both of them snoring just a little. Her legs stuck out from the end and her hands touched the floor but you never loved her more than you did in this very moment.

“Oh Grace,” you mumble, pulling your phone out to take a picture. You send it to your mum and make it your wallpaper before leaving the door ajar to start on dinner. 

Grace walks into Lionesses training grinning at her phone. Millie T sees her and watches as the young striker types fast and doesn’t stop grinning on her phone. She sneaks up on Grace and it startles her, making her drop her phone in surprise. 

“Mills!” 

“Sorry Gracie, who’s got ya grinnin’ like that eh?” 

“Nothin,” Grace provides, checking her phone for cracks. Millie grabs it out of her hands and runs away with it. She dodges through the rest of the girls in the gym, laughing her head off as Grace chases her. 

“Mary! Stop her!” 

Mary, who’s just walked in, grabs the lanky Millie and holds her tight, before Grace grabs her phone off her. 

“Who’s that you’ve got on your screensaver huh? Grace has got herself a little wife, girls!” 

“Shh Millie!” 

“Who’s got a wife?” Tooney asks, drinking from her water bottle. 

“Little Gracie does.” 

“I don’t,” Grace defends, “not yet at least,” she mumbles to herself. Grace walks away from the girls who are gathering around her, putting her headphones in in hopes that they’d get the message. 

Beth comes and sits beside Grace, stretching as the young United player does. The rest of the girls have gone back to warming up, Millie T standing at the weights looking a little guilty for outing her friend. 

“I’m happy for you Gracie,” Beth tells her quietly after they get their boots on, leaving the girl conflicted. 

Grace comes home after training exhausted. Sarina had them working hard as they had some important games coming up. The smell of your world-famous lasagna filled her senses when the front door shut behind her. 

“Is that Mama I hear at the door?” she hears you tell Jake before the soft patter of feet gets louder and louder. 

“Hello, love,” Grace sighs, holding Jake in one arm while snaking the other around your middle. You feel her muscles relax when your warmth blends into hers. Jake wriggles around in her arms after a while and she puts him down, watching as he goes back to his building blocks on his play mat. 

“I missed you,” she mumbles, hugging you from behind as you stir the tomato sauce. Grace kisses your nape and you lean back into her a little, realizing you missed her just as much as she did. 

“I missed you too, sweetheart,” you tell her, both of you looking at Jake who was showing the dog what blocks he had, “we both did.” 

Grace pulls out and you turn over, watching her reach for the wipes she kept in her side table. 

You drag a finger over her warm skin as she cleans you both up, leaving soft kisses all over the marks she’s left on you. 

Her face says something entirely different though, like there was something bothering her. 

“Grace?”

“Hm?” she looks up at you and you watch those eyes you fell in love with look troubled. 

“What’s wrong, love?” 

“You’ve always been able to tell when something’s bothering me.” 

“It’s because I know you, darling,” you say softly, sitting up and reaching for her chin to look up at you. “What’s the matter, lovely?” 

“Millie saw you today,” Grace sighs, now sitting cross-legged with you. Her fingers trace along the insides of your forearms, beautiful eyes refusing to look at you. 

“What do you mean?” 

“Millie got my phone and saw you and Jake today.” 

“Okay,” you say, taking her hand in yours. “So?” 

“So? I’ve never told anyone about you two. Not even the girls.” 

“Why not?” 

Grace thinks, wondering what her excuse was. 

All the other girls never hid their relationships. 

Why did she?

“I love having you all to myself, I don’t want to share what we’ve got just yet.” 

“Oh honey,” you coo, realizing where all this was coming from. “The girls will understand, Gracie.”

“I don’t want to make you feel like you need to hide who you are with them.” 

“You’d never let that happen, Gracie,” you say, leaning in to kiss her soft lips. “Never.” 

You stand, walking backwards into the bathroom. You’re taunting Grace, hinting at round two in the shower. 

“Besides, I’d love to meet the girls who don’t know the baby has a baby.” 

||

“Who’s that?” 

“Who’s who?” 

“The girl Gracie’s with,” Maya gasps “and the cutest little boy ever!” 

“You wanna say hi little buddy?” Grace coos, taking Jake out of your hands before walking out towards the girls. You follow her and strike up a conversation with Beth, Lotte and Leah, watching Grace out of the corner of your eye. 

The girls fawn over Jake and seemingly Sarina joins in, practice for the day delayed by about a half hour. 

“This is what you’ve been hiding Grace?” Millie quips, tickling Jake a little as Mary makes faces at him. 

“They’re very important to me, Mills.”

“I get that,” she nods, “I’m happy for you Grace. Thank you for sharing them with us.” 

You’re sitting in the stands with Jake, watching as his eyes light up when Grace shows off her skills. He becomes a little fussy at nap time and Sarina, to your surprise, takes him from you and holds him the entire hour he naps on her shoulder while you do some work on your laptop. 

At the end of training, Grace hops the barriers to get to you. The girls have already come over and taken Jake to the locker room, his giggling makes your heart grow fonder of the girls you’ve watched on tv for years and heard stories about. 

“I think that was a successful day in the office, don’t you think?” Grace says tiredly, sitting beside you. 

“Mhm, it was,” you turn and face Grace, her perfect smile on her face when your eyes lock with hers. “The girls love Jake and it’s clear they love you. Thank you for letting them into our little world. I’d love to share more of it with them.”

“I think they’d like that.” 

“Jake! I am utterly heartbroken that you said she was your favorite!” 

“HA! I told you he liked me better!”

“FUCK OFF LOTTE!” 

“Leah! Language around the baby!”

“PWUCK!” 

“Oh no.”

[trulyhblue]

Could you possibly do a Grace Clinton x Reader please based on what Alessia mentioned on her podcast about Grace being a big hugger and like a sloth ! x also love your work ❤️

Just A Hugger

Grace Clinton x Lioness! Reader

Warnings: fluff, secret but established relationship, very short!

______________________

You were sitting on one of the bean bags for the first time all camp, snuggled under an array of blankets, cuddling your phone as you stared up at the TV in front of you. The room was dark, holding refuge to more than a dozen tired athletes, all clad in their sponsored trackies and hoodies. You were among the handful that had been able to snag a bean bag before they were all full.

Alessia and Ella shared one beside you, and Niamh and Lotte planted theirs together in order to create one combined. On the lounges behind you, many of the girls lay across one another, sluggish in their endeavours to soak up some team bonding while also maintaining the silence. Beth had made you a hot chocolate, and Esme had picked the movie, which was of no complaint to anyone, considering the City girl always seemed to know best. You could hear Lauren muttering about her latest Lego creation to LJ, who was somewhat endorsed by the topic of conversation, yet scrolled aimlessly on her phone as she hummed along in agreement, since Hempo’s tangents often let on for prolonged periods.

Your feet peeked out from under the blankets, your fluffy pink socks matching with your girlfriend, who was nowhere to be seen. There was a quiet hum of chatter as the movie played, and everyone was content with the mixture as it was the first time anyone had really gotten to bond with another teammate outside of training.

The euro qualifiers were tough, and your fresh arrival to the team made it even more difficult to mould into a routine. In such high stake games, you certainly weren't looking for any significant game time, but you were a halftime sub during England’s campaign against Sweden, and you were hopeful of getting the same minutes this time against France.

You were younger than most of the girls but had been around professional football for long enough to have known them all for quite some time. You made your debut at United only a few years ago before playing for City in the Youth groups. There you met the likes of Mary, Katie and Ella, who were the first Lionesses that you had truly gotten to know. You had eventually met Grace when she came from Bristol to United, and from then, you were both sent on loan to Tottenham, where your friendship blossomed into a North London Treasure. Fans are no longer sure Grace is a United player, but their NLD golden girl. You were born and raised Manchester-bound, and you were not prepared to face the fact that you were slowly becoming among the faces of Tottenham’s affiliates. It took you a while to process the hurt that came with your loan, and at some points, you envied how quickly Grace fit in with your teammates and the game they played. But you soon moulded well as a striker, especially as your relationship with Grace consumed your everyday life.

You had moved in together as friends and slowly found your deep feelings for her embedded into your heart. The hugs during celebrations, and the post-match interviews matched with longing stares and soft compliments. Fans jumped to the joyride of how calm and collected the two of you held yourselves, especially as a duo in the games. Grace was always helping you up after badly set tackles, and you pushed her away from unnecessary quarrels with opponents. The media would pick up on the assists Grace would give you, and the spectacular goals that came as a result of your chemistry. There weren't any other two players that had this sort of combination together, and clubs were quick to realise that if they wanted one of you, the other was instantly included.

It was only half way through the season when the two of you got together. It was after your win against Arsenal, and the celebrations mixed with alcohol were quick to loosen your tongue. It was a well-kept secret between you two, except your two best friends Charli and Celine had caught on about your feelings long before you had even gotten together. The media were just enamoured by your friendship with Grace. The fans adored the affection you showed each other. There was inevitable shipping rumours, but they never held much significance.

While you liked the privacy of your relationship, Grace wanted to make it known that you were hers. It wasn't like you kept it discreet. You had shown each other the same amount of PDA before you made it official, so there was minimal change when it came to the way you interacted with each other, save for the heavy affection shown in the showers after a match, away from prying eyes. However, Grace had found herself falling more protective of you. If someone had made a false tackle on you, she’d be all over it before you had even hit the ground. It was an anger that had never presented itself beforehand, but it was sure to unleash the second you winced into the grass.

You were very reserved on the pitch. There wasn't much you got up to, and your card count was very low. Grace was much more vicious, but held accountability when it was due.

Everyone just thought that it was the end-of-season drama, where teams were making last-second challenges that would aim to help their position on the ladder.

Now, as both of your loans with Tottenham were soon to be over, Grace and you had not only made yourselves comfortable in the London atmosphere but had created special bonds with the likes of Celine with Grace and you with Charli, which made the return back a little difficult to face. You were both extremely valuable to each team, and there had been an inexplicable improvement that United wanted a piece of, though Tottenham wanted to keep. You were conflicted with the history of your home, and the alliance of your new life, which added to the stress of debuting with the England Senior Team.

You felt a familiar figure crouch beside you, placing another layer of soft blanket over your figure. With a soft kiss on your forehead, you snuggled up to Grace’s side, immediately cradling her waist with your arms, engulfing her chest with your head, and listening to her steady heartbeat.

“God, you're so warm.” She muttered, pulling your thigh over her leg, letting your weight lean against her. You let out a silent laugh as Grace wrapped her arms around your shoulders, running her hand through the nape of your hair, playing with the loose strands.

You peered down at her feet, feeling the familiar fabric of your matching socks. “Where have you been?”

Grace tucked you into her chest further, breathing in your scent as she sighed. “Talking to Sarina. She wanted to see what I was doing with Tottenham?”

You looked up, carefully calculating the mood on your girlfriend's face. “What about it?”

“Just whether we— whether I was staying.”

“What did you say?”

“I told her I’d have to ask you.” Grace glanced down at you, smiling at the crease between your eyebrows. She pecked your nose, tracing your features subtly. “She said that she could see that we were dating from a mile away.”

You scoffed at that. “Bet she did.”

None of your national teammates mentioned anything, though some of the senior girls had caught on quite quickly that something had changed since the last time they had seen you in Manchester. Ella, who was usually the slowest had walked in on you two that very morning, yelping and whining over breakfast, making your face go red with embarrassment and Grace shoving Tooney over to Lessi, who, inevitably, now knows.

You had told Beth and Leah that you two had gotten close while partnered together at training. Leah had told you it was obvious, and Beth had given you a big hug before listing things she and Viv did to keep their relationship a secret before it got out.

Grace had told Mary, who told Millie, who told Rach, and soon enough pretty much everyone who cared had found out over the course of a day. They were quick to subtly congratulate you, but the attention had died down by the time dinner had past and you all were watching the somewhat indulging film Esme had put on.

You weren't keeping your relationship a secret, but neither of you found a point in letting it known. If someone asked, you’d tell them. Both of you were waiting for the media to catch on, but until then, you were content with the quietness of it all.

“I’ll go wherever you go, you know that?” Grace muttered, placing soft kisses down the coloum of your neck. You pressed your figure closer to her, sighing when her hands ran against your sides.

You held out your hand to grab hers, tracing the ridges in her knuckles. “What do you think? Tottenham or United?”

“I don't care, baby.” She spoke, peeking up from where her face hovered above your collarbone. “I would warm the bench if it meant I was with you.”

You laughed into the blankets, nudging your face into her neck. “You're a sweet talker, Clinton.”

Grace didn't deny the statement, smirking down at your cosy position against her. She wouldn't trade you for any contract offer in the world. No amount of money or years of playing football could equate to holding you in her arms.

______________

yourusername

Liked by Graceclinton, Leahwilliamson, and 98,367 others

tagged — graceclinton, alessiarusso, ellatoone

yourusername — training and socks 🧦🎀

_____________

Comments:

user78 — if they are not in love then idk what love is

lionesses — pretty in pink! 💕

graceclinton — I love the way you look at me

graceclinton — feet on feet 🤢

^ yourusername — you love it 😙

wosofan — THE WAY THEY LOOK AT EACH OTHER I CAN NOT DO THIS THEY R SO CUTE

alessia — 😍

* liked by creator

user17 — im dreading the time their loan at Tottenham ends.

^ user67 — what if one of them stays at Tottenham and the other stays at United?

^ user66 — I will become violent if this happens

^ user16 — both teams will want them both. I doubt this will happen

charlottegrant — my little koala 🐨

^ yourusername — miss you char char 😣

ellatoone — less and I third wheeling

^ alessia — you’ll live tooney

^ graceclinton — double date?

^ user62 — Y/N AND GRACE CONFIRMED???????

______________

[russo-woso]

Double trouble || Katrina Gorry x reader

Request | Masterlist | Prompt list

Summary You and Katrina get very unexpected news

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“It was never this bad with Harper. I was only sick twice when I was pregnant with her. What’s so different this time?” You sighed, sitting against the wall in your en-suite bathroom.

You’d just had the worst wave of morning sickness so far into the pregnancy.

Your wife, Katrina, was stood next to you, having rubbed your back as you threw up.

“I don’t know, babe.”

Before you could say anything else, you felt a sudden wave of nausea.

Instinctively, you threw your head into the toilet.

“Bubbas a little trouble maker, aren’t they? Katrina asked, you nodding in response.

“It’s like it’s double as bad.”

“Well, when we see bubba today, we’ll tell them off.” Katrina joked, helping you up from the floor.

Today was your twelve week scan and you were seeing your trouble maker for the first time.

—

“Mummy, we see the baby?” Harper asked as you laid down on the bed, the nurse preparing the ultrasound.

“We will see the baby, Harps. Are you excited?” You questioned, harper nodding quickly.

“We’ll see your baby brother or sister.” Katrina added, picking harper up so she was sat on her lap.

“So, I’m going to put this gel on. It will be cold but you’ll get used to it.” The nurse said, placing the gel on your slight bump.

Yours and Katrina’s eyes were fixed on the screen, the nurse trying to find your baby.

“And there is your baby. There’s their head, and there’s their — oh.” The nurse stopped mid sentence, a confused look taking over her face.

“What? Is something wrong?” Katrina asked, squeezing your hand.

“No nothing wrong. Do twins run in the family?” The nurse asked

“My dad’s a twin.” You replied, studying the nurses face to find out what was happening.

The confused look was replaced with a one of realisation.

“That explains it. It also explains why I could see three hands. There’s baby A, and there’s baby B.” The nurse told you and Katrina, pointing to the screen where two clear babies were.

“Twins? Two babies?”

“Two babies.” The nurse confirmed, you and Katrina just looking at each other.

“Twins?” Harper asked, confused.

“You’re gonna have two baby siblings.” You told her, harpers jaw dropping at the realisation.

“Does that explain why the morning sickness has been so bad?” Katrina questioned the nurse who nodded in response. “It’s not just trouble then is it? It’s double trouble.”

[helen-with-an-a]

Beautiful Girl Masterlist

Fluff | angst | angst/comfort | suggestive | smut

I’ve tagged everything in relation to this universe under #fic: beautiful girl, if I forget to upload something to this masterlist, you can scroll through that tag instead 💕

Oneshots

Welcome Home (18+) Alexia comes home from the Olympics

Halloween (18+) Alexia forces herself to watch a scary movie with you

Injury (18+) (coming soon) You tweak your knee

Night Out (18+) (coming soon)Alexia decided to be bratty

Christmas Eve (18+) (coming soon) You go to Barça’s Christmas Eve party

New Year’s Eve (18+) You spend New Year's Eve together

Blurbs

First Meeting you meet a Beautiful girl

Outside Looking In Mapí and Ingrid explain the dynamics of Capi vs Alexia vs Ale

Tired Alexia is just so tired

Coaxing (18+) no-plot-pure-smut

Ballon d’Or (18+) Amor comes home from winning her first Ballon d’Or

200 Goals Alexia is being stubborn

Headcanons

Headcanons 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

Quick Headcanons

Some more quick ones

More things that have been on my mind

Random ones

Birthday headcanons

Amor and her instruments

Ale trying to get off without Amor there

The time they had a giant fight

The Man City Barça UWCL match

Amor and Las 15

Amor and Ale after the 2023 WWC

SWF headcanons

NSWF Headcanons

Christmas Traditions

Moodboards

1 | 2 | 3 | (coming soon)

Questions

Does Amor have tattoos?

What Nationality is Amor?; How is she like playing against Alexia?; What is her relationship with Alexia’s “kids”?; Does Amor have any secret talents?

Does Amor like the Alexia TikTok edits?

What does Amor and Alexia’s relationship look like to other people?

Was Amor in Alexia’s documentary?

Is Amor younger than Alexia?

How did Amor and Alexia announce they were dating to the public?

What was the moment it clicked for Alexia to let Amor be in charge?

Is Amor on track for a Ballon d’Or?

Is Amor an arse girlie?

Does Ale and Amor encounter any issues with it being Amor's first real wlw relationship and (im assuming) not Ale's?

What’s it like when they play each other at National level?

[b14augrana]

Scrubber

Your make your debut in a La Roja jersey

Barça Femení x teen!reader

pt. 7 masterlist

Warnings: mentions of injury / blood

A/N: bebita is back by popular demand!! i wrote this pretty late at night so excuse any grammar mistakes but on the bright side i included lots of vidić references. enjoy! 💝

‘Time goes by too fast,’ you thought, as you stood in the tunnel, sandwiched between Salma and Alexia. Only a couple days ago you were struggling to decide what you wanted for breakfast, and now you were minutes away from playing in a Euro qualifying match against Denmark.

The officials gestured to both teams, beckoning them out of the tunnel and onto the pitch, and Irene led the way.

Your nerves normally subsided when you played for Barcelona, but this was different. This was a place and team you weren’t used to, it wasn’t Barcelona.

As your team lined up and prepared to sing the national anthem of Spain, you could only think about one thing; how were you supposed to play?

That was another thing that made you miss Barcelona all over again. Back in Barça, you had Lucy, Mapi, Ona, Patri and Pina to encourage your advanced tackles. You weren’t very hopeful about the other Spain girls being so supportive.

You were deep in thought as the national anthem rung through the stadium, and the words erupted from your mouth mindlessly. After the song concluded, you followed Alexia off the pitch and shook your jacket off your shoulders.

Over the speakers in the stadium, you barely make out what the commentators were saying. It was something about you, that’s all you could tell.

“…making her international debut tonight at just 16 years old. She’s been pivotal for FC Barcelona this season, scoring a last minute goal in the Champions–” The rest was lost in the sea of roars coming from the crowd.

There was barely enough time for your coach to give her last word, and before you knew it, you were stood in the back with Irene, awaiting the whistle.

You quickly learned that today, Denmark had chosen to take a more passive approach to attacking. You were naturally aggressive in defence, so taking on this more patient style of offensive play wasn’t too much of a challenge.

It was different playing without Mapi. You knew she should’ve been there, playing in your spot because she deserves to represent her national team and enjoy it. It made you sad that the old management failed her and she couldn’t do that.

You missed her. A lot.

“(Y/N), mira la pelota!” Irene yelled, dropping back into the box. Your attention averted to the Danish strikers running towards you, and the midfielder preparing to put a ball through.

Pernille Harder blistered past you as soon as the ball had been kicked. It took you barely a second before you went after her, your legs drilling into the ground with every long stride until you were right beside her going shoulder-to-shoulder for the ball.

Irene was there, you knew that, but you didn’t want to get beaten and let Irene clean up your mess.

Pernille was getting closer and closer to the box with every touch she took, and though you knew she was a world class attacker, you would rather die than let anyone advance on goal.

You lurched, your foot making contact with the ball and cutting it out of her path, sending it somewhere to the sidelines. You slid across the ground on your hip, and it was like everything was in slow motion as Pernille stumbled over your outstretched leg and lunged forwards. The ball found its way to the right back, Oihane Hernandez, who was quick to clear it down the line for Athenea.

When there was too much proximity between a player and the goal, the decision to make was extremely straightforward for you; your body gets hit before the back of the net.

A quick look at the ‘NV15’ written on your wrist gave you all the motivation you needed to power through the first half and continue to produce tackles. When you walked off the pitch for halftime and retreated into the locker room, you slumped beside Irene and took a large sip of water.

“Dios mío (Y/N), fue increíble defender. ¡Tenemos suerte de que juegues para nosotras!” Leila said, smiling fondly at you.

You had properly met her a couple days prior, and immediately liked her. She was a defender, just like you, which meant you got to grow your circle of defender friends.

You returned her smile and mumbled a shy ‘gracías’ while Irene gave you a side hug, “Esa es mi nenita.”

Half time flew by. You were lost in a train of empty thought, too eager to get back on the pitch to concentrate on anything else. You practically jumped to your feet when your coach gave the last word and players started filing out of the locker room.

The second half did not start off much like the first one. Denmark ditched the passiveness for a more fierce approach, which showed from the minute they received the ball. Spain was only up by one goal and the 90 minutes was coming to an end.

Snerle ploughed through the midfield with the ball at her feet and sent a sharp through ball towards the flank. The pass was too quick for Leila to intercept, and the right wing charged past her, leaving Leila behind.

There was an obvious pass to make from the wing; a cross into the box for Pernille to touch and score.

Pernille realised this. Thomsen realised this. You realised this as well.

Pernille came sprinting from behind you into the box and the ball flew over the heads of Spanish and Danish players alike, almost about to land right at the captain’s feet.

The decision to make was extremely straightforward for you.

You can fix a broken nose, but if you let someone score a goal, your pride cannot be fixed.

There was Cata on the near post, and you knew there was no chance she could save a shot from such short distance.

You can fix a broken nose, but if you let someone score a goal, your pride cannot be fixed.

It was hard to not be acutely aware of Pernille right behind you, practically breathing down your neck, extremely desperate for a goal that could change the entire game.

You can fix a broken nose, but if you let someone score a goal, your pride cannot be fixed.

The ball was descending to the ground again, right in front of the goal, threatening to change the momentum of the game entirely.

You can fix a broken nose, but if you let someone score a goal, your pride cannot be fixed.

All it could’ve taken was one big step for Pernille to knock it in the back of the net. You threw yourself forwards and plummeted towards the moist grass as your head blocked the ball from meeting anyone in the box. It ricocheted off your head and bounced away as you fully fell onto your chest, and once again you felt Pernille lose her footing after tripping over your leg.

The last thing you felt before you were overwhelmed with pain in your face was a body landing on top of your head, forcing your face to collide with the ground. There was a barely audible crack, and then the searing pain came into effect. Nonetheless, you scrambled to your feet, clutching your face with your hands as you hunted for the ball and cleared it away from your box completely, which became near impossible as the pain became intolerable.

Liquid trickled down your arm, and the source wasn’t a mystery. You clamped your eyes shut for a moment and when you finally opened them, Alexia and Irene were in front of you with looks of horror on their faces.

There was a swarm of many other teammates, plus a worried looking Pernille standing beside you with a hand on your shoulder, apologising profusely.

You smiled at her, though it must’ve been a horribly bloody one. “It’s ‘kay, not your fault,” you mumbled, shaking your head.

“Árbitro, necesita ayuda de inmediato. ¡Mírala! Está sangrando por todas partes, está herida–” Alexia yelled, flailing her hands in the air. The referee was on the sidelines, sending the medical team onto the pitch.

“I’m fine, just m’nose..” you said, but nobody looked convinced. You wiggled past the bunch of women and made your own way off the pitch, heading for the bench.

As soon as you sat down, you were about to go to the locker room and claim your Hay Day login when multiple medics ran towards you, inspecting your nose and figuring out what to do.

To you, it was all worth it, because the last few minutes of the game were approaching and your broken nose had prevented a possible equaliser.

“You can fix a broken nose, but if you let someone score a goal, your pride cannot be fixed,” you told the medics when they asked you what happened, “…in the words of Nemanja Vidić.”

Spain came away with a win against Denmark, thanks to your little accident-causing header. Alexia almost sprinted over to you after the game to bombard you with a million questions, such as ‘How are you?’, ‘How long are you out for?’ and, ‘Are you even out? Will you get one of those special masks?’

When you had answered all her questions, you made your way over to the Danish side, where Pernille was standing. You nervously tapped her on the shoulder, and her expression was one of surprise when she spun around and saw you.

“Hi, Miss Harder, I’m (Y/N),” you said.

“I know you, don’t worry. Please, call me Pernille,” she responded.

“I was wondering if.. you’d want to, maybe, trade shirts?” you asked shyly, “I made sure my jersey didn’t get any blood on it, just for this.”

Your comment incited a laugh from Pernille and then, to your relief, a nod. “I’d love to trade jerseys.”

After you had swapped jerseys and you slipped the Denmark jersey over your head, you smiled at the woman. “Thank you so much, Pernille! I really loved playing with you, even the broken nose part. Thank you!”

You returned to Alexia as you were in the process of zipping up your jacket. “You have a quick press conference to go to, and then we can go back to the hotel,” she informed, and you nodded.

Post-match interviews weren’t your favourite. You normally just wanted to go home, have some dinner, and have the deepest sleep of your life. Today was a little different because Alexia was accompanying you.

“(Y/N), what can you tell us about the medical incident that occurred earlier? Is that a lesson for you?” a reporter asked, and you shuffled about in your seat.

“Not necessarily a lesson, because I will break my nose again if I have to, but definitely an experience,”you responded with a small smile.

“Alexia,” the next reporter spoke, “What are your thoughts about the incident?”

She was in the process of taking a sip of water when the question was asked, so her answer didn’t come immediately. When she placed the bottle back down onto the table and leaned closer towards the mic, she began to speak.

“Que… it is a testament to (Y/N)’s selflessness and dedication to football, no matter if it’s club or country. It shouldn’t be looked at as a bad accident, because it wasn’t an accident — it was a sacrifice.”

[samkerrworshipper]

bar-ca

alexia putellas x reader x putellas!child

no warnings just my first kidfic so no judgement

The sound of the bottle sanitizer whirring hurts your brain.

The four month sleep regression is no joke, the non-stop crying, the no sleep, the teething pain. It’s the pains of motherhood that nobody has ever brought up to you.

Everything hurt.

Your head from the lack of sleep, your boobs from constantly being sucked dry, your body from rocking a baby all night who had no intentions of going to sleep.

You just couldn’t understand why little Lili wouldn’t sleep.

You’d tried it all, sleep training, sleep school, nannies, co-sleeping.

None of it worked, Liliana was just set on running yours, and her other mothers life.

You groaned as the machine pinged, signalling that it was done cleaning out the bottles.

You grabbed the one closest to you and poured the water you’d already warmed and the scoops of the formula into the bottle.

Formula really was your saving grace, although the effort to put it all together was something tat you felt was unnecessary, it was the expense of giving your boobs a break.

You were grateful enough that Lili took formula, because according to most of the women in your mothers group you were very fortunate.

You shook up the bottle until the formula had all dispersed evenly.

You would be lying if you said that you didn’t take a moment to yourself, setting the bottle down on the counter and leaning over, enjoying the rare moment of silence in the putellas household.

You knew that you should be grateful, grateful that you were in a position where you could spend so much time with your newborn, that you could spend so much of this valuable time with your biggest treasure, but it didn’t make it any easier.

You were the main parent, Alexia had a football career, games, trainings, media commitments, leaving you at home with Lili constantly. You were starting to get some cabin fever, and a little bit of annoyance with your baby who was always crying.

You’d thought it was croup, but no, Lili just cried and cried and cried, and a lot of the time you cried with her.

There were good moments, but that didn’t change the everyday constant exhaustion you had. The most annoying part though was that you were so attached to Lili that you couldn’t leave her for longer than an hour. You couldn’t explain it, but every time anybody had offered, Eli, Alba, Mapi, any of the girls of the team, and you’d tried to leave Lili with them you’d gone through the worst mom guilt imaginable. So, you were stuck, with a broody baby attached to your hip, pretty much at all times. It didn’t help either that Lili had been significantly premature as a baby, so not only had she been sick, but she’d also craved the constant skin to skin contact in her first weeks of life, only strengthening your connection to her.

Alexia tried her hardest to take the pressure off of you, but at the end of the day you were the one breast feeding, you were the one who had sacrificed her career for motherhood, you were the one with the stretch marks and body that had been wrecked by your daughter.

You picked up the bottle, knowing that the silence across your house would very quickly be replaced by screaming if you didn’t get the bottle to your hungry daughter soon.

You walked slowly through the house, making your way to your shared bedroom as slowly as possible.

You stopped in the hallway when you heard the sound of babbling and an occasional giggle coming from the inside of your bedroom.

The giggling was new, but it made the moments a little bit sweeter when you got to hear it, although Alexia was the one who mostly got it out of your daughter.

You turned the corner and smiled at the sight in front of you.

“It’s not funny liLI, i know you can do it, say it for me, bar-ca.”

You stopped yourself from laughing at the serious expression on your wifes face as she stared at your daughter expectantly.

All Lili did was laugh at her.

“It’s in your blood, you’re a culer, c’mon, you can say it.”

It was another new thing, the little babbles of syllables that would leave your daughters mouth, it was cute, and you’d been aiming for mama, but clearly Alexia had other intentions.

Lili just giggled again at Alexia’s pointed finger and the seriousness on her face.

“You can do it, do it for me, say it, cu-ler, or bar-ca.”

Lili contemplates for a second, before babbling something completely incomprehensible.

“I thought we were aiming for mama first?”

Alexia looked up at you, like she’d been caught red-handed.

She flushed red, and then laughed, and when Lili laughed along with her you didn’t have it in you to even try to tell her off.

“Barca is basically her mother, both of her mothers are curlers, culer is in her blood.”

You rolled your eyes effortlessly at Alexia, she wasn’t wrong, in fact the when you’d seen your daughter for the first time after waking up after birth, instead of being dressed in the previously picked outfit she’d been decked out in a miniscule barca jersey.

“I’m also her actual mother and I would like it if all of the sleep I’m losing to her would be used to at least say my name.”

Alexia nodded, she couldn’t really argue your point, it was smarter for her to just agree with you.

You stepped up onto the bed, looking at Lili, who was uncharacteristically bright for this time of day. You were hoping that you could get her milk drunk and hopefully she’d pass out, but you also were aware that your chances were slim.

You reached for her, noticing the way that her face immediately dropped as you lifted her from Alexia’s arms.

Just as she looked like she was about to burst into tears, you pushed the bottle nipple into her mouth, watching as her face immediately relaxed.

You sunk back against your pillows, happy now that she was able to hold herself up without fully relying on leaning on you.

Alexia leant over, pressing a kiss to your hairline.

“How about I take her to training with me? She can sit in the gym with me and one of the staff or injured players can watch her whilst were out on the pitch. You can get a shower, sleep, go for a walk if you want, go see your mami or mine?”

You shook your head.

“You insinuating that I smell, Putellas?”

Alexia shook her head against your forehead.

“I’m insinuating that you need to give yourself a break, let me take her for the day, it’ll be fine, I’m just as much her mother as you are, take a break for yourself, si?”

You felt sick at the idea, but you couldn’t deny the need you had to get some proper, undisturbed sleep.

“Plus, you know how desperate all fo her aunties have been to see our girl, she’ll be saying the words barca by the end of the day.”

Your eyes shot open.

“Alexia Putellas Segura, I am not joking, if she says any words besides mama as her first ones than you will be on night duty for the next month, away games be damned, am I understood?”

Alexia pouted.

“I can’t help it if she’s destined to be a barca player and already knows it.”

You let one of your eyebrows raise.

“Alexia.”

She frowned again, but nodded her head.

“You let me take her, and I’ll get her to say mama, deal?”

You bit your lip, as much as parting ways with your daughter terrified you, as needy as she was, you were so desperate to get a proper run in, or a proper workout, or some proper sleep and proper food that wasn’t ordered off of your phone.

“I want her back in one piece by the end of the day, and with the same amount of barca memorabilia she already has in her wardrobe, and I want her aunties to not indocrinate her, okay?”

Alexia smiled, already bouncing out of bed.

“Finish her feed and we’ll be off, we’re going to have such a good day lili baby, just you and mommy day.”

You rolled your eyes, looking down at the baby in your arms, who was looking at her mommy curiously.

“She’s crazy lil, don’t you listen to her, your mama’s forever, even if you cry for the rest of your life.”

[jackiesunshines]

SORRY, I'M SO STUPID | S.LOHMANN¹²

summary: you're an idiot who lost the love of your life. somehow, you get her back.

contains: sydney lohmann x bayfcplayer.ᐟreader, exes to lovers, mentions of relationship insecurities, sorta messy timeline, mentions of concussion/injury, jealousy, jealous.ᐟreader, sydney got the patience of a saint, they're inlove your honor, some angst with fluff

word count: 6.0k

author note: first fic on this blog, hopefully you cool ppl in my phone like it. lil warning for the fic going from past tense to present tense alot, that's the point. i tried a slightly different writing style doing this so let's hope it eats. enough yapping, enjoy ❤️ p.s. this is a lyrics fic.

PLAYING THINGS I WISH YOU SAID BY SABRINA CARPENTER

baby, sorry, i left you in the dark. i always reach for your leg over there on your side of the car

you are really fucking stupid. at least, that's what you have been telling yourself for the past two months.

you're in your car, on your way to deyna's party. of course, san jose traffic is packed and going at snail speed, leaving you with time to think many thoughts. way too many thoughts.

thoughts that are mainly involving a pretty, german blonde who used to be yours at one point. she would still be yours right now if you didn't end things impulsively.

what did your parents say when you were a teenager about how social media is poison? you are slowly starting to agree because you let opinions circulating around social media and your insecurities end a good thing. now the one person you didn't want to hurt in this life is hurt and you're hurting alongside her.

you almost want to forget about her, but who could forget about sydney?

that's why when you change lanes to reach your exit on the highway, your hand automatically goes to the passenger seat to reach for a thigh that isn't there.

right. she's in germany, not here.

you're so fucking stupid.

baby, everything reminds me of you. nobody gets my jokes, everyone here thinks i'm fucking rude

being at practice reminds you so much of sydney. it makes sense, you both are professional players. so of course your day is riddled with memories of sydney.

arriving at the training facility reminds you of that time sydney told you she tripped coming into bayern's training building, and she was teased for days.

going through drills has you thinking about when sydney whined on the phone everyday about her legs and feet hurting after practice.

time in the gym, doing your cardio is not that different from the days where sydney and you would workout out together. getting a sweet treat right afterward.

so, by the time training is over, you are ready to get dressed quickly in the locker room and duck out to go drown in your self-pity and regret at home. it's too bad that even the locker room reminds you of sydney or the lack thereof.

“why are you changing so fast? trying to run away from those bad shots you made?” jen jokes, coming to sit by you at your cubby.

you look at her, your hands still occupied tying your shoe. “you cannot be talking after the amount of times you fell. your age catching up to you?” you say in a similar joking tone with a side of deadpan,

or so you thought as everyone looks at you like you're crazy.

“i was just playing around, chill,” jen says. her words confuse you and so does the reactions of your other teammates.

did your joke have venom that you were unaware of behind it? or did you say it more on the side of deadpan than joking?

all you know is that sydney would have laughed at that. she would be giggling so hard, her face would get all red. then she would have thrown an even better insult right back at you.

you really miss her.

when i saw you cry, i didn't handle it well. without you here, i don’t know what to do with myself.

your nights have been so boring ever since you broke up with sydney. the same routine: get home, shower, water the plants, eat dinner, and then spend an hour or two scrolling on social media trying to fight the urge to stalk sydney's page.

you had blocked the blonde back when you two first broke up. you remember how klara texted you about how that's “childish and just hurts you both more.” she's right, of course, but who's going to tell her that? not you. not after you made a whole big deal about moving on and focusing on your career.

moving on doesn't even seem right. that's for people who were heartbroken by chance, not on purpose. it's not for people who hurt themselves by ending something that was good and stable because they couldn't get out of their own head.

still, as you lay there and scroll, your entire being craves for what used to belong to it.

you desire sydney's warmth.

you miss sydney's scent.

you are hungry for sydney's kisses.

you need to be held down by the weight of her body on top of yours.

instead, you are being weighed down by the pain you inflicted upon her. haunted by the sight of tears filling up in her eyes the day you ended everything and walked away. the unanswered text messages she left you the following night after she got drunk. the single text that followed the morning after that,

those were mistakes. ignore them.

everything blares in your head like an alarm that never stops. a clock that is broken, but not because it doesn't sound off but because it continues to sound off even if you want it to stop. there is no snooze for your regret, not with the way your dreams are filled to the brim with thoughts of sydney, too.

i think about these things at night before i fall asleep. things i wish you said to me.

syd's barely affectionate with her.

they don't give off girlfriends vibes.

sydney is more cuddly with her friends than her own girlfriend.

wonder when they are going to break up.

it's not going to last.

you reread the comments that led to your self inflicted suffering in the first place. the noodles in front of you on the table have run cold and your appetite is halfway gone at this point anyways.

social media has never been a big part of how you move throughout the world. you love to doomscroll, and of course, you have your favorite creators across platforms. you know about different trends and internet slang. duh, you aren't thirty. but you never used to let social media dictate how you interact with people outside of it. social media is full of algorithms and echo-chambers made to take over people's thoughts. forcing them to stay on apps longer than needed to look for solutions for problems that have been caused by said apps.

that's always how you felt.

but even you fell into the trap of social media. early in your relationship with sydney, you were too in the honeymoon phase to think about looking at socials. too wrapped up in sydney. however, when you two calmed down into a just as in love but more controlled state, your mind started wandering.

wondering what people are saying about you two. do they find you two cute? couple goals? were there fanpages for your relationship?

other players who are in relationships often have these things, so why wouldn't you guys have those as well?

what you didn't expect to find was people overanalyzing the way sydney and you interacted in public. for people to wonder if you guys are even in love.

“they don't see me when i'm with you. they don't know how attached i am to you every second we are alone,” sydney said when you brought up your growing insecurity. she was smiling all sweet, sitting on top of you.

how could you not believe her with the way she's kissing the frown off your lips?

your insecurities still grew and grew and grew until they became a hill. a hill, you weren't able to climb over.

they don't know how sydney loves wearing your clothes around and outside of the house because she's obsessed with your smell. they don't know about all the nights she cuddled into your side, basically glued to your skin. they aren't there on the days you were in sydney's apartment, cooking and dancing with her. they don't see the way she is all over you when you two are alone.

yeah, she wasn't super affectionate in public but that's only because she got so shy every time you showed her any love.

fans online didn't know about any of that, but you wish they did. you wish you didn't put so much value into their opinions because you probably would still have sydney in your grasp right now if you didn't.

if only you came to sydney about this more. the german player would rush to do anything that would make you feel better, more secure. but no, you just couldn't because you were afraid she would be annoyed you kept bringing the topic up after she reassured you the first time.

sydney would have never done that and you knew that.

that wrongful thought was influenced by that stupid hill in your head that was built on tons and tons of mean comments. the weariness of long distance fueled the comments impact on your mind deeply. getting reassured over the phone wouldn't be as satisfying as in person, so you never brought up the topic again and everytime you were with sydney, you didn't want to ruin the moment so again you didn't say a word. all of this created a hamster wheel you couldn't get out of.

you get up from the table, throwing your noodles away. they are too cool to eat now, and reheated noodles do not sound appetizing.

slipping into bed, your mind thinks back to the past over and over again until it tires itself out enough that you drift off to sleep.

things like “darling, i hope you know it scared me to death. the night that your sister said you got into an accident.”

number that SHOULD be blocked

i'm so sorry about your injury

when i saw you go down, my heart fell to my ass

i hope you have good ppl around you to take care of you ❤️

contact changed to sydney

you

i do

thanks for texting

sydney

….

yk i'm here for you too, right?

ik we broke up and aren't supposed to talk but

i'm just rlly worried about you

your heart feels like it's beating at 100 miles per hour. first, sydney texts you then second, she's worried about your injury and third, she wants to fucking be there for you.

is this a dream? have your wishes to get her back finally come true?

you look at the text, pondering what to send back. an immediate yes would be too desperate, right? but you are desperate for her you think to yourself.

fuck it, just say yes.

right when you are about to text back, sydney beats you to it.

sydney

there's no pressure

i know we haven't talked in forever

how is she being so considerate when you're the one who broke her heart?

you

i want you

sydney

??

you

i mean i want you to be there for me

can we talk pls?

be friends or whatever you want

sydney

duh

i'm the one who offered

there go the other side of sydney that you know and love.

“and god, i, i'm watching everything that you do. i can't get your songs out of my head or your hair out of my room.”

sydney and you have been texting back and forth everyday since that day she texted you. anyone looking from outside the situation would said it's heading straight for disaster. exes texting regularly again? especially when one is still very much inlove with the other? a speeding train just waiting to crash.

to that, you would say they don't understand. there isn't no tension or lingering resentment or anger between sydney and you while yall talk. that truth surprises you considering the fact you basically dumped sydney four months ago. if the roles were reversed, you wouldn't want to see her ever again, but somehow sydney's heart is overflowing with so much love that she doesn't have room to hate you.

she checks up on your well-being pertaining to your head injury. the recovery so far has been slow, very slow. you aren't even in rehab yet, still stuck at home resting and sleeping throughout the day. thankfully, your parents flew to san jose to come take care of you.

when you aren't sleeping, then you are texting sydney. her check-ups on you have slowly turned into long conversations about her day. texting her almost makes you feel like you two never broke up, that you two are still dating.

when you can't talk to her or are unable to sleep, you keep up to date with bayern munich. if someone asked why you were watching them, you would say not only for sydney, but that would be a lie. just a little white lie, though. you're watching for klara, lea, and lena too.. but mostly for sydney.

seeing her in her element, all sweaty and passionate, makes your head feel a little less broken, so yes, you will continue to watch her matches without telling her.

and what you don't know is that sydney thinks of you every time her feet touch the pitch. how she goes even harder than normal to impress you just in case you are watching. she hopes you are watching her, she always has and always will. even right after you broke up with her and she had to push her feelings down to go put on a good performance for germany, she played so hard she was MVP of both friendlies. back then, sydney hoped you viewed her performances with envy. with deep regret for letting go of a woman like her. now she hopes you look at her in admiration when she plays well.

you also don't know that sydney never threw away any of the gifts you gave her during your relationship. she was supposed to throw everything away in a box like lea recommended, but she couldn't. she couldn't throw away all of the memories she had left of you in her home. she couldn't delete the pictures she had of you in her phone. she couldn't even block your number.

sydney hanged onto every single last string she had that was still connected to you. it's hard to let go after being dumped. she thought, no, she knew you were the love of life. her entire world came crashing down when you sat her down on the last day of you visiting her in germany, suddenly saying you believe you two should be over. that long distance isn't working out for you anymore.

she cried for a week after you left. klara had to come over and help her clean up her apartment after a week of just crying in bed.

after that, the blonde slowly tried to move on. she went out more, with and without her friends. posted more on instagram. pushed herself into drowning in work related to football. even all of that didn't help her forget about you. she couldn't. her soul still yearned for yours.

she watched your matches in secret, all of her attention focused on you. her heart rate would perk up whenever commentators said your name. she wasn't able to pull her attention away from her tv when the camera would do a close-up of you.

so obviously, the day you got injured, sydney knew. she saw the way you went down and didn't get back up. her blood was rushing to her head, her chest was hurting as she watched you get carried off. it nearly felt like she was the one injured with how her body was feeling.

could sydney be faulted for texting you? for worrying about you? klara would slap the phone out of her hand if she knew about this, but good thing klara wasn't in her apartment. going off straight adrenaline and concern, sydney sent that text that led to you being back in her life.

texting back and forth everyday has sydney dopamine hooked. you still have the same effect on her that you always have.

every time she texts you, her eyes glance around her room at the various things you left behind when you broke up with her.

the sweater you never asked for back.

the dragon stuffed animal she won for you at a carnival.

the brush you always used when you came over. she couldn't bring herself to use it after you left her, so it just sat on her vanity, taunting her for ages.

sydney told herself that when she texted you about your injury, you two would keep a certain level of distance. that you wouldn't become lovers again. that she was only checking up on you every day because you deserved people in your corner.

that last part is true, but her other motive is also there: she wants you back.

i saw you meet somebody, and i'm jealous as hell. that i can't even stomach loving someone else.

the texting between sydney and you have gone from texting to calling. a big leap, but you both admitted to liking calling more than anything else.

the calling is totally not an indication of falling back into a similar routine from before the break-up.

or maybe it is because you don't fall asleep on the phone with your friends, you don't text your friends good morning and good night, you don't send so many selfies of yourself to your friends. those are actions you always have done with sydney.

anyone could see that you two still like each other, obviously, but you are seemingly blind to it.

perhaps it's the regret, pity, and guilt for ruining a good thing for no reason that's keeping you ignorant of what's growing between you two once more.

that ignorance wouldn't last forever.

sydney and you have now been in contact again for five months, more than no-contact lasted. your recovery is coming along better than your doctors expected. your head doesn't feel heavy anymore and you can have the tv above sixty without your head feeling like it's going to explode. sydney was more happy about this progress than you were.

syd 🥺

just watch

in a few months you're going to be able to run and play again

you

my doctors said that's not happening so soon

syd 🥺

idcc

you're like half magical so you will recover soon

you

LMAOOO

half magical is insane

you're crazy

syd 🥺

crazy or optimistic?

you

both…

syd 🥺

WOW??

okay i see how it is

say this to my face

incoming call from syd 🥺

after you answer the call, sydney and you talk for three hours. bickering back and forth with a mix of talking about your days. of course, your day is the same as always. you slept, ate, crocheted a bit with your mother, and saw your doctor. meanwhile, sydney's was full of life per usual. she went grocery shopping, helped lea clean out her spare room, got some sweets from a bakery, and “saw the cutest dog while walking home” in her own words. hearing about her lively days makes you feel a bit better about your own days that are very simple and very boring nine times out of ten. there isn't much a person recovering from a concussion can do.

you could push away and ignore your feelings when you two were in just a bubble of you and sydney. nobody else is in the way, questioning if exes talking everyday was healthy. nobody wondering if all that contact would lead to something more.

that bubble is broken the day you see something that makes you feel sick.

it's a saturday, you're scrolling on instagram. sydney is busy at a gathering with some friends, leaving you to your own devices.

sorta already missing her, you go on her instagram to look at her posts. you had unblocked the moment you two started talking again. as you click on her story, you wish you still had her blocked.

your head feels like it's going to explode as you look at the photo: sydney is sitting on a couch, and some girl is on her lap, smiling way too hard.

what the hell was going on?

you almost type out a message to sydney before you get control of your emotions. it isn't your place to be jealous or hurt or annoyed. sydney and you aren't together anymore. you two are friends, only friends right now.

you feel sick as you swipe out of instagram. it's time for a nap before your head falls off of your body with the way it pounds.

seeing sydney with someone else is making you stop believing the lie that you two were platonic right now. you could never be friends with the woman you love.

i think about these things at night before i fall asleep. things i wish you said to me.

that instagram story sets off a series of events.

first, you slowly took a step back from talking to sydney. the step back was so slow that she didn't notice at first. honestly, you took two more months to not talk to her everyday because you were hooked on her messages. hooked on her jokes and selfies and laugh and cute rambles. still, you somehow did it. instead of talking everyday, you two talked three days a week and only for an hour. way less than you two used to do.

second, you started putting tons of work into your recovery. seeing a physical therapist and slowly incorporating small, easy exercises into your day helps you come closer to getting back on the pitch. the first day you step back onto the bay fc training facility grounds, your emotions are everywhere. you haven't seen your teammates as much as you use to when you were not injured and seeing them training while you were just visiting the physical therapist killed you. they were all happy to see you though, catching you up on everything that has been happening since you were away. your head injury has calmed down enough that you could sit outside and watch everyone else practice. all the shouting and sounds of bodies moving doesn't irritate your head thankfully. you follow this similar routine for a long while, even if you are slightly sad about not being able to play.

and finally, sydney confronts you about pushing her out of your life.

you're lying on your bed, having just came back from a day at the bay fc training facility. you and sydney haven't talked for a week straight, her apparently busy with her life over in germany and you making an active choice to talk to her less.

that's why when a notification from her comes up on your screen, you look away from your screen then back at it to see if this is happening right now. it's not the notification itself that makes you act like that, but the message,

sydney (wait 30 mins before answering)

why are you treating me like this again?

you

sydney

what are you talking about?

sydney (wait 30 mins before answering)

you're ignoring me

we barely talk anymore

what's gotten into you?

you try to think up an excuse. eventually landing on,

you

yk i'm busy with rehab and stuff

sydney (wait 30 mins before answering)

bullshit

stop lying to me

you

calm down syd

omg

sydney (wait 30 mins before answering)

don't tell me to calm down wtf

first you randomly break up with me for some stupid reason

“long distance isn't working” whatever that supposed to mean

i just know in my gut that's not why you left me

now we became close again and you're leaving me again?

why let me back in your life if you're going to do this to me

your head is starting to pound as blood rushes to your face. you always hated when sydney was angry with you and this time is no different. it's justified though. what you're doing is really cruel, pushing sydney away after becoming close with her again. you have hurt her once again.

you're so stupid.

in the process of trying to run from your feelings, trying to ignore the jealousy seeping from your psyche after seeing the photo of that random girl on her lap in that photo. lost in your thoughts, you don't realize that it's been ten minutes since you replied to her.

sydney (wait 30 mins before answering)

okay

do what you want

march 14th, 11:11pm, read

ooh-ooh-ooh-ooh

“i don't know how to say this.. but you deserve an explanation. you wouldn't answer my calls or texts, and i get it. i left you not once but twice. both times for stupid reasons that i should have communicated instead of going ghost. the day i broke up with you.. i cried the moment i got home. all i could think about for so long is how hurt you looked. that should have made me act, but it didn't, and i just regret everything. the first time i pushed you away, it's because i let the internet get to me. make me feel all insecure about us. i pushed you away a second time because i realized i couldn't stay platonic with you. i.. saw that insta story of yours. the one with that girl on your lap. i lost my mind because i thought i didn't have a chance with you ever again. i'm really sorry, so sorry. i miss you so much. call me back, please?”

voicemail left to sydney, april 23rd, 3:00am

sorry, i pulled the “it's not you. it's me.” one day, i'll make sure you get a real apology.

sydney

are you busy?

she texts you one day in july. you thought that she was fully done with you after not speaking for nearly two months, but thankfully she isn't. you can make this right.

you

no

incoming call from sydney

…

“hello?”

you haven't heard her voice in so long. it sounds just the same, all soft and pretty. a rush of fondness hits you.

“hi sydney,” you say, more like whisper, into the phone.

there's some shuffling on the other line before she speaks again. was she moving around on her bed? it's a nervous habit of hers to move during intense situations you think to yourself.

you push your thoughts to the side as sydney speaks, “.. i got your voicemail.”

you thought she deleted it with how long it has been since you had sent it.

“did you like it?” you say.

why the fuck did you say that?

instead of hanging up the phone in your face, sydney laughs. you have missed her laugh so much.

“i wouldn't be calling if i didn't.”

“oh right.. sorry.” you let out a laugh of your own at your stupidity. not just your stupidity from right now but all the times before, too.

then the moment you start laughing, that makes sydney start laughing again. creating a cycle of you laughing at her laughter, then her laughing at yours and again. laughing on the phone with your ex after not speaking for some months once again is actually insane, but it seems like that's just how sydney and you are: insane.

the two of you calm down soon enough. getting back to the serious conversation that needs to be had.

“you know it really hurt me when you stopped talking to me. i thought we were getting somewhere.. platonic or not. it hurts even more to know you still like me but pushed me away anyways. don't you want me?”

“of course i want you.”

“then why didn't you say anything?”

“....”

“that was a stupid question.. i listened to your voicemail. i know why.. i just want to hear it from your own mouth in real time.”

you sigh before going silent for a moment. sydney doesn't speak, she just waits.

“i just.. was so insecure the longer we were together. i know at the time you told me to ignore social media, but i couldn't. all of those people were saying we shouldn't be together and that you didn't want me. i couldn't take it. i felt like i was holding you back from someone better, so i left. then when we started talking again, i deluded myself into believing we were on our way to being just platonic but i can never be just friends with you. the night i saw that photo on your insta story, i didn't know what to do.. so i left again. i'm sorry.”

“.. i accept your apology, but i'm still hurt. i thought you trusted me enough to talk to me about anything?”

“i do.. i did.. i swear.”

“you don't act like it.”

“i'll be better if you let me. if you want me.”

“i want you, but you'll have to work for it. i'm not taking you back that easily.”

i waste my time, i waste my life on idiotic things. like things you never said. things you'll never say to me.

sydney and you start talking again after that call. things between you two move slow though, very slow. more slow than the first time you guys got together.

you know that sydney is waiting things out, trying to see if you would leave her again. she keeps a certain distance when you two speak a little too flirty. she shuts it down quickly every time, which hurts, but you get it. you have to earn that side of her again.

and you do just that.

it's in small ways than some grand gesture. you tell about everytime you watch one of her matches, mostly praising her but throwing in some critique as well. after your rehab sessions, you tell her about everything. all your feelings surrounding the sessions, how much you've been improving. everytime you feel jealousy at one of sydney's posts, you talk to her about it.

that distance between you two slowly closes. not only emotionally but physically.

the summer the year after sydney and you reconnected for the second time since the break-up, you find the time to fly to germany for her birthday.

you asked before coming, though, not wanting to mess up the new connection you two are building.

“syd, i got a question,” you say, phone propped up on the bathroom sink as you got ready for another day at training. you have progressed very far in your recovery, thankfully, and can now do some light training with the team.

“hmmmmm?” sydney murmurs. she's looking all cute on the other line, face pressed to her pillow as she lays in bed. her room is dark, with the only light coming from her phone screen.

there's some hesitation that crosses your mind, but you push it away. communication, remember?

“can i come see you?” you ask.

sydney sits up slightly after hearing your question. there's clear confusion on her face.

“what do you mean?”

“i want to fly to germany for your birthday.”

sydney goes silent for a long moment. your nerves peak, looking at your screen. was this too big of a step for her? does she need more time to be ready to see you in person?

her answer surprises you.

“okay,” she says.

you booked your flight to germany that night and next thing you know, you're there. unfortunately, sydney isn't the one who picks you up from the airport. lena takes over that job, but it's still fun to hangout with lena after so long.

you don't see sydney until the day of her birthday. she claims she's been busy and you believe her. she texts you all the time even if she doesn't come see you physically.

your mind runs wild as you get ready for sydney's birthday party. you're in lena’s bathroom, making sure your hair looks perfect and your makeup doesn't make you look clown-ish and that your fit actually fits you and maybe you should brush your teeth again-

“you know sydney doesn't hate you, right?” lena interrupts your anxious thoughts.

“duh i know. i wouldn't be here if she did,” you say, still staring intensely at your appearance through the mirror.

lena rolls her eyes. “then why are you getting ready like we're going to a pageant? sydney likes you in every way. she was really hurt when you guys broke up, but obviously, she's moved on from it if she invited you to come all the way here.”

lena's words make you slow down your overanalyzing of yourself. she's right, sydney is forgiving you right now. trying to overdo everything to seem perfect isn't going to make her like you any more. she already likes you alot.

she wants you, not some polished version.

“you're right. i'm finished, let's go,” you say, leaving the sink and coming by the doorframe to make lena turn around. the two of you leave the bathroom, then put on your shoes and finally leave her apartment.

the drive to sydney's party is a short one, or at least it feels that way. lena, and you sing along to the songs on the radio the entire way there.

once at sydney's place, your heart starts racing. being back in her space feels so strange, but so right. alot is the same, but alot is different aswell. she bought a new couch, an upgrade from her old leather one. there's more plants around the place. her tv is new and even bigger than her last one.

the apartment is basically full with all of the bayern munich team and some other people from sydney's life. the smell of pizza and chicken hits your nose as you walk from the living room, where you greet everyone, to the kitchen.

and there is sydney.

her back is turned as you walk into the kitchen, but you can tell it's her.

her hair is styled in a ponytail, and she's wearing this black tank top and nice fitting jeans. she looks so pretty. she looks even prettier when she turns around.

“y/n?” sydney looks at you like she wasn't expecting you. perhaps she wasn't fully prepared to see you in person? even though she knew you were coming to her party. she allowed you to, after all.

you smile at her, “hi syd. is it too soon to say i missed you?”

“is it too soon to hug you?” she smiles at you back.

“i would be stupid to say yes, and i'm done being stupid.”

sydney flies into your arms, embracing you tightly. her arms wrap around your neck, her cheek pressing against yours. her quick reaction would feel weird if it didn't feel so right. you hug her back just as tight. it's been so long since you've been in her arms. so long since you smelled her scent. so long since you've even been around her.

“thank you for coming,” sydney says as she pulls away. not going too far as she stands close to you.

you laugh, “i'm the one who asked you. i should be thanking you.”

“for what?”

“for letting me back into your life.”

sydney's and your reunion is cut short by laura coming into the kitchen. she gives you two a look but doesn't say anything about your closeness.

“syd, you better get in here. it's your birthday party,” laura says, pointing to the living room. sydney looks at laura before looking at you. without thinking, you grab her hand and pull her out into the living room. time to party.

you ended up staying for longer than you thought you would in germany. sydney allowed you to stay in her spare room for the rest of your time there. the two of you have many, many conversations about where you two stand currently. she's not your girlfriend just yet, but you two are getting there.

when it's time for you to leave for america, sydney drives you to the airport and even blessed you with a kiss on the lips as a goodbye. your face is permanently flushed until you board the flight.

she texts you the moment you get off the plane back in san jose as well.

syd 💕

land safely?

you

yupp

but i miss you :(

syd 💕

miss you too :((

we'll see eachother soon

don't worry

you

call you when i get home?

syd 💕

call me when you get home

author note: i might possibly be working on an alt verison of this with sydney's pov.. depends on if my brain feels like working. hope yall enjoyed! 🙂‍↕️

© JACKIESUNSHINES, 2025

[pitchsidestories]

el sueño de una niña (2) II Jenni Hermoso x Reader

part 1 | masterlist | word count: 1803

summary: Jenni promised reader's daughter Mila to come to her first football match, can she keep her promise despite being away with the Spanish national team.

author's note: dear readers, you asked for a part 2 and here it's, please enjoy. Let us know your thoughts on the oneshot.💜🖤

“But you promised to come…”, Mila whined through the phone, her voice on the verge of cracking. The disappointment in the little girls voice weighed heavy on Jennis heart.

She winced as she replied: “I know, I know.”

“It’s my first important game…”, Mila complained.

Jenni sighed. She was the one who had helped Mila find a football team in her age class, the one who had bought her first pair of cleats and also the one who had promised her support for her first game. Only, she had forgotten that she would be away with the national team at the time of Milas first game.

“I'll find a way to be there, Mila.”, Jenni promised determinedly. She didn’t know how yet but there was no way she would disappoint her.

Mila seemed a bit more calm at the end of their call but at the same time the conversation had attracted the interest of Jennis spanish team mates.

“Mila has a game?”, Alexia asked, her eyebrows moved towards her hairline with curiosity.

Jenni threw her phone on her hotelbed with frustration: “Yes, it’s her first one. She asked me to come weeks ago.”

Irene who leaned in the doorframe smiled to herself: “Do you all remember your first games?”

“Who doesn’t?”, Alexia replied with a grin.

“We all do.”, Jenni agreed. She knew from experience how formative first games could be.

Aitana stood there, frowning at Jenni like her brain was working at full speed: “But how do you get to her game when you’re here with us right now?”

The hotelroom went quiet as everyone seemed to search for a solution to help Jenni out.

“Easy, fake an injury.”, Mariona blurted out.

Four pairs of eyes stared at her. The disbelief about her suggestion was palpable inside the room.

Jennis face suddenly lit up as she got up from her bed: “During training later? Mario, you’re a genius!”

Excitedly, the darkhaired player pressed a grateful kiss to Marionas cheek and picked her up to whirl her around.

“Jenni!”, she protested, her cheeks slightly reddened.

“Sorry!”, Jenni laughed and finally let Mariona back down.

“Don’t tell anyone that I had anything to do with it.”, Mariona pleaded.

Jenni winked at her nonchalantly: “Oh, don’t worry, Darling. I’d not tell a soul.”

“Good.”

A few hours later, Jenni went down just as planned during a training drill. She held her knee and screamed in pain. The other players crowded around her, faking worried looks. Alexias eyebrows knotted together, indicating that Jenni was definitely overdoing it.

“Jennifer? Are you alright?”, their coach asked, crouching down to Jenni.

“No.”, the football player moaned.

“The physio should take a look at it.”, Alexia interrupted, trying to steer the conversation into the right direction.

Jenni nodded quickly: “Yes, just to be sure. That really didn’t feel good.”

“Okay.”, Montse agreed as she watched her get up and limp off towards the physios.

A short time later, the physiotherapist Pilar realised with a sour face. “You’re fine, Jennifer.”

 “Listen I know I’m fine but there’s a game tonight I’ve to attend. It’s a little girl’s first football match.”, Jenni pleaded.

She shook her head in disbelief. “You want me to lie and say it’s bad enough that you’ve to leave?”

“Not to leave necessarily only to take a break until tomorrow. Please.”, Jenni looked at her with big eyes.

“Excuse me, you want me to compromise my integrity.”, Pilar protested.

“It’s for a good cause.”, the striker gave her the most charming smile in the hope it would work on the physio like it did on all the women before. Nowadays, the specific grin was usually reserved for Mila and you. But this was an emergency.

“You owe me, Hermoso.”, she warned her.

“I know, you can count on me.”, Jenni reassured the physio.

“Go.”, Pilar replied in an impatient tone.

“Thank you!”, the football player promptly jumped off the lounger throwing kisses at her.

“Ugh.”, the physio waved it off, pretending to be disgusted by it.

In awe you watched your daughter warm up with the teammates who became her friends. Mila and you were heartbroken that your friend hadn't come yet despite her promise, which she was supposedly so keen to keep.

The referee started the game that’s why you didn’t hear the person coming who put her arms around your waist with a cheeky smile on her lips. A loud gasp escaped your mouth as you turned around to see who dared to touch you like that.

“Jenni?!”, you exclaimed surprised, glancing at the face you came to love so much over the past year.

“Hey.”, the Spanish woman greeted you grinning.

“You really made it to the game.”, you whispered deeply impressed by her dedication.

“I told you I’d. I never break a promise.”, Jenni answered in a serious tone.

“True, it’s been twelve months, and you never ran away.”, you noted.

“Can’t believe you still think I would.”, she remarked hurt.

“No, I trust you.”, you disagreed whole-heartedly, cupping her cheeks with your hands before exchanging a gentle kiss with the striker. For one moment the pitch and the game faded into the background.

“I think I deserve that trust by now.”, Jenni stated earnestly, pressing a kiss to your hand before releasing you fully.

“You do.”, you responded. Both of you followed the game proudly. The Spanish national team player was the one who cheered and supported the girls the loudest.

A bright smile lit up Mila’s face during a short break once she realized that Jenni did came to the game to see her play. Shily your daughter waved at her which the striker returned with her hands formed to a heart. When the game was on again Mila even scored her first goal.

“There she comes! Hi Mila.”, Jenni kneed down to hug the small girl after the match officially ended.

Milas face split into a big grin once she spotted Jenni standing next to you. She immediately broke into a run and jumped into Jennis arms. “Jenni, you made it!“

“Of course I did. I promised you.“, Jenni laughed as she spun the little girl around before setting her back down on the grass.

Mila cocked her head: “Have you seen me play? You looked distracted by looking at Mami.“

You failed at stifling your laughter while your girlfriend replied: “Hey! Of course I watched you play.“

“Uhu, sure.“, Mila nodded, her little face filled with sass.

Jenni raised her eyebrow at her with a grin: “Excuse me? I came all the way from my national team camp to watch you play.“

The tiny football players’ eyes widened in awe: “How did you do that?“

“Magic.“, Jenni explained, waving her hands through the air as if she was casting some spells.

“Wow.“

“All for you.“, she winked at your daughter.

“Thank you, Jenni.“, Mila beamed and pressed yourself against the football player for another hug.

Jenni kneeled down to her: “You did so well today. Were you nervous?“

Mila nodded hesitantly: “Yes but Mami said she believes in me.“

“We both believed in you. Don’t worry, the nervousness gets better after a few games.“

“It does? Also, told coach that you’re a good coach too.“, Mila said and pointed in the direction of woman your age who watched you with raised eyebrows.

You shot her a smile while Jenni laughed: “Oh god.“

“She didn’t like to hear that.“, Mila confirmed what you both could read from the face of her coach already.

Jenni bit her lip to stop herself from laughing: “I bet so.“

“Mila, are you hungry?“, you quickly changed the topic, impatient to leave the football pitch and the watchful eyes of the youth coach.

“Yes!“

You turned to your girlfriend: “What about you, Jenni?“

“I think I have time to take my girls out for food.“, she winked.

“Perfect.“, you smiled.

Jenni held out her hand for Mila. You took the other hand of your daughter. “Let’s go.“

“Please, I’m starving.“, Mila complained which caused all three of you to break into laughter again.

Jenni ruffled through the young girls hair: “Don’t worry, you will get some food to fuel your body after such a long game.“

You found yourself at a restaurant shortly after. Mila was busy digging into her chicken tenders and you watched Jenni pick at her salad.

But there was something that your girlfriend had said earlier that you couldn’t get out of your head. You leaned forward, your chin resting on your hand and watched Jenni curiously: “So… how did you get out of the Spain camp?“

Chewing on a tomato, Jenni shook her head: “Can’t tell you that.“

“It’s top secret, huh?”, you smirked.

“Yes, it’s between me, the girls and our physio.”, she winked conspiratorially.

The small comment of the striker sparked Mila’s curiosity as well. “Was it dangerous?”

“A little bit.”, Jenni admitted sounding amused.

“Woah, that’s so cool.”, your daughter marvelled.

“Mila!”, you clicked your tongue disapprovingly.

“But mami you must admit it’s true.”, Mila defended herself.

Swiftly you changed the topic, looking into your girlfriend’s eyes. “When do you have to go back?”

“Tonight, but I can take Mila to bed before that.”, Jenni answered smiling.

“Really?”, your child asked beaming with delight.

“Really.”, the footballer confirmed mirroring her excitement.

“Good.”, Mila nodded satisfied.

The dinner with three had gone by in a blink.

In an animated tone Jenni read out loud to your daughter in the child’s bedroom. It was a story for boys and girls featuring the life story of Marta. In between you could hear Mila’s lively comments she exchanged with your girlfriend until there was only the silence of the night.

“She’s sleeping?”, you questioned as Jenni closed the door behind her.

“Yes.”, she affirmed calmly.

“Wonderful.”, you muttered gleefully. Eye to eye, you noticed a desire and lust in the way the striker looked at you. A blush crept upon your cheeks feeling the intensity of her stare. “What? Why are looking at me like that Jennifer?”

“No reason?”, she murmured innocently.

“No, tell me.”, you demanded in the knowledge that your lover was lying.  

“Well, I’ve some more time before I’ve to leave.”, she began mischievously.  

“You mean long enough to..?”

“Yes.”

“We shouldn’t waste more time don’t you agree?”, you glanced at her expectantly.

With a playful expression Jenni took your hand to guide you to your shared bedroom, leaving no doubt that she was fully in line with what just passed your lips.

Everything started with a promise and ended with another one.

After you two made love together Jenni promised that you three would be a forever thing. Something like the three musketeers against a man’s world which despite all it’s harshness would never get you down.

if you enjoyed this story reblogs, comments and likes are always appreciated !

[lvnleah]

out of the shadows | steph catley.

you end up falling in love with your sister’s best friend.

You had always been the quiet one. Growing up with Beth, you often felt like you were in the shadow of her bubbly, outgoing personality. She had no problem making friends, and people flocked to her naturally.

As for you, you were happy staying behind the scenes, organizing Arsenal’s media content, capturing those moments the world would never see. You were proud of the work you did, but it had always been your place to stay unnoticed and you didn’t mind it.

Although there was Steph and you didn’t mind if she noticed you.

Steph was your sister’s best friend, a bubbly, infectious presence on and off the field. She was everything you weren’t — confident, outgoing, and always pushing you to come out of your shell. At first, you resisted. You were fine, just the way you were, right?

But over time, Steph’s warmth and kindness began to break down those walls. It started with small things — a cup of coffee after a long day or sharing a laugh over a silly joke. She always seemed to know when you were feeling down or needed someone to talk to. Slowly but surely, you felt yourself getting closer to her, though you were still unsure how to handle it. How could you, the shy one, handle the way she made your heart race every time she smiled at you?

The real turning point came one evening when the team celebrated a big win at a bar nearby. You were nervous, unsure about being around the team, and not used to such attention. But Steph, as always, wouldn’t take no for an answer.

“You’re coming,” she insisted, her hand on your arm as she gently guided you out of your quiet corner.

“I really don’t know,” you started, but she was already pulling you toward the door.

“Trust me. You’re going to love it,” she said with that playful grin of hers, which made your heart skip a beat. You couldn’t say no to her, and before you knew it, you were surrounded by the loud chatter and laughter of your teammates.

At first, you stuck close to Steph or Beth, quietly nursing a drink and listening to the conversations around you. Steph was a calming presence, always ready to include you, to make sure you felt welcome.

“You doing okay?” Steph leaned in, her voice soft as she placed a hand on your arm.

You nodded, feeling more relaxed than you had expected. “Yeah, actually. Thanks for dragging me out here.”

She grinned, her eyes twinkling. “It’s my job to drag you out of your shell.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “It’s working.”

“Hey, if you ever want to get out of here and just… do something quiet, you know where to find me, right?” Steph asked, her tone light but her eyes sincere.

You nodded quickly. “I’d like that.”

And that was how it started. Over the next few weeks, you spent more time with Steph, and little by little, you felt yourself relaxing in her presence. She had a way of making you feel seen, heard, and important — things you weren’t used to. She was patient, and kind, and always pushed you to be just a little braver than you were the day before.

One evening, Steph showed up at your apartment, a big smile on her face as she held up two pizza boxes. “I brought dinner,” she said, her eyes gleaming with mischief.

You raised an eyebrow. “Pizza?”

“Yep. Thought we could have a night in, just the two of us. Watch some movies, eat pizza, and relax.” She set the boxes on the counter, her eyes twinkling as she added, “Sound good?”

You smiled. “That sounds perfect.”

The night passed in a haze of laughter, shared stories, and the comfort of each other’s presence. After the third slice of pizza, you and Steph found yourselves on the couch, the evening winding down. Steph was talking about her latest practice when you felt her gaze on you, her eyes searching yours. Your heart skipped a beat, and you quickly looked away, trying to ignore the fluttering sensation in your chest.

“Y/N,” Steph said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. You turned back to her, only to find her face inches from yours. “I… I really like you.”

The words sent a jolt through your body, and you felt your cheeks burn with warmth. “Steph, I…”

Before you could say anything, she closed the distance between you, her lips meeting yours in a soft, tentative kiss. You froze for a moment, shock coursing through you, but then it all came rushing in — the warmth, the sweetness, the way her touch made everything else fade away.

When you pulled away, your heart was racing. Steph’s eyes were soft, searching yours.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for a while,” she admitted, her voice low, almost shy. “I didn’t know if you felt the same way.”

You took a deep breath, still trying to process the kiss, and nodded. “I do. I really do.”

Steph smiled, her eyes filled with warmth and relief. “Good. Because I like you more than I’ve ever liked anyone. And I want to see where this goes.”

You smiled back, your heart swelling with a mix of joy and nervous excitement. “Me too.”

For the next few months, you and Steph kept your budding relationship a secret. It wasn’t that you were ashamed; it was just complicated. You didn’t know how Beth would react, and you didn’t want to risk ruining your friendship with her. So, you sneaked around, enjoying quiet moments together whenever you could — secret hand-holding, stolen kisses, and whispered confessions when no one was around.

But as much as you tried to keep things low-key, the team started to pick up on the little things. The way Steph’s eyes softened whenever she looked at you, how she always made sure you were included, or how you’d find yourself laughing at something she said when no one else was around. The team, always protective of you, began to notice how much more relaxed and happy you seemed whenever Steph was around.

One afternoon, after a team training session, you and Steph were walking out of the training ground, talking and laughing as usual. You were in your own little world, her hand lightly brushing yours. Neither of you noticed the figure watching from a distance until Beth’s voice rang out, cutting through the air.

“Well, well, well,” she said, her tone both teasing and surprised. You turned, your heart skipping a beat as you realized that Beth had seen everything.

“You two,” Beth said, crossing her arms, an amused smile tugging at her lips. “What’s going on here?”

You felt your face flush. “Beth, I…”

Beth’s eyes widened in realization. “Wait, seriously?”

You nodded sheepishly. “Yeah. We didn’t know how to tell you.”

Beth shook her head, a smile slowly spreading across her face. “I swear, you two are impossible. I could tell something was going on, but I wasn’t sure. I’m happy for you both, though. Really.”

You sighed in relief. “You’re okay with it?”

Beth shrugged. “Of course, I am. I just wish you’d told me sooner. I don't want you to be scared to tell me stuff, you know?”

Steph chuckled. “We weren’t trying to keep it from you. We just didn’t know how to bring it up.”

Beth laughed, stepping forward to hug both of you. “You two are adorable. Just… don’t be too sneaky from now on, alright?”

As the months passed, your relationship with Steph only grew stronger. She brought you out of your shell in ways you never thought possible. You found yourself more confident, more open, and more willing to embrace the spotlight that had always felt so out of reach. And through it all, Steph was right by your side, always supportive, always kind, and always making you feel like you were enough.

[pinkyqily]

We'll help you through it [Ingrid engen x mapi lèon x r]

Contains : mention of depression

A/n : this a repost of my fics, my request are open

Least to say that you we're struggling life sucking every single one of your motion to keep living it felt like you lost all hope in your self you didn't know what it was but your mental health decline took a toll on you.

Every day felt like a struggle to be alive and keep on breathing. but thanks to your amazing girlfriends who were able to notice what was wrong with you.

It all started with when they had to leave a lot for away machetes you get that it was apart of their job but sometimes you felt lonely and jealous about what the two could be doing without it.

You doing what you do best overthink the whole situation but nevertheless you were able to push back.

You stopped answering there calls and texts whenever they sent in one. Just wachting the phone ring away without trying to pick it up.

Feeling worthless and unimportant as life would have been better if you just stopped living you thought to yourself.

But you never get close to doing it. It's been weeks since you last saw them as you've been ignored them.

You had a new routine now wake up work sleep and eat. And well repeat totally ignoring your other aspect of life.

Mapi and Ingrid had obviously noticed the pattern in your behavior and decided to vist you as soon has they could.

"Ingrid you think all this is enough". Mapi asked Ingrid showing her comfort bag that they brought for you filled with your favorite snacks to everything that you like.

three different brands of your favorite chocolate, huge ass blankets you wanted to get but didn't they had it your favorite movies had it makeup,dresses, accessories they had it all but mapi over here was still worrying that it wasn't enough.

"Mapi it enough or maybe to much". Ingrid questioned.

"Let's just go". she said to her girlfriend

They finally got your place with the spare key and weren't really expecting to see you in the condition that you were in.

With just one look at you it was quite obvious that you weren't getting enough sleep nor eating enough.

They both immediately dropped the things they had rushing to your side. It hurt them to see you this way like you were waiting on death.

Ingrid was the first to speak up. "Baby I'm so sorry we haven't been there for you".

"Nothing is your fault I'm particularly to blame".

"No don't say that about yourself".she told you

Mapi on the other hand didn't know what to say so she just pulled you three into a hug. you all stayed like that for a while before Ingrid started cleaning.

the whole place and convinced you to go take a bath so you could feel more relaxed. mapi was changing your bedsheets and placing the things that they got you.

By the time that you were out your places was looking better than it was before.

Ingrid made you a bowl of spicy soup putting it down and helping you with your hair and clothes on. You ate what Ingrid had prepare with mapi feeding you and not missing a single drop.

After that they both convinced you to leave the house for some fresh air. And that what you did getting in the car mapi first went back to there place to pick up bagheera to join you guys.

Having bagheera join you guys on the beach was perfect the cat being there made you perceived and calm. It wouldn't have been your normal couples walk if mapi didn't start talking you and Ingrida ears off.

Something that you missed even though she could go on for hours she was recently yapping about. how patri and pina were quite obvious about each other but to afraid to confess and how she was going to play cupid.

Let's to say you felt happy and a little better all you need was come comfort and love from you girls which they understood.

[wosoloml]

red string theory || lotte wubben-moy x reader

summary: the first time you see lotte wubben moy, you didnt actually see her.

your life was always connected because you are meant to be.

warnings: none, just fluffy fluff with my lotte girl

from this request

a/n: i hope its okay what i wrote it about lotte because i thought this request is so lotte coded

wc: 1,739 words

"Are you nervous about tomorrow?" my work colleague, who is also my best friend, Jules, looks at me with a focused expression.

A few years ago, I attended college in the USA, where I ran my own sports blog for the university newspaper. I especially enjoyed writing about the women’s football team because I witnessed the sport gaining more popularity there.

It felt so empowering to see how all the girls were following their dreams, and I always wanted to share their stories so everyone could see their passion.

I was packing all my work stuff into my bag when Jules called out my name.

"Y/N, can you please help me real quick?"

I sighed but stopped what I was doing and walked into the salesroom.

"Can you make a latte macchiato real quick? Table 7 has a big order, and I’m swamped. Sorry for interrupting you," she said.

I smiled softly at her before glancing at the girl who had ordered the latte. I barely registered her, only noticing how graceful her movements were.

It felt kind of ironic that my last customer of the day would be such a mysterious woman.

But life moved on, as it always does, and that moment faded into the countless fleeting, insignificant encounters you never expect to think about again. Until much later.

----

"Oh my girl, Jules, you made it!" I pulled her into a tight hug.

"Of course! It's your graduation today! I'm so proud of you, my little nerd."

After three years of hard work, endless studying, and way too much crying, I’m finally done. I’m now a certified sports journalist with a focus on women’s football. I couldn’t be happier.

"Now it’s time for you to introduce me to your girlfriend! I can’t wait to meet the mysterious Alessia in person."

Her smile grew even wider as I mentioned her girlfriend. "Come on, she’s right over there, chatting with an old friend from university she randomly ran into here."

----

I’ve checked my phone. 8:00. I arrived at the training ground of THE Arsenal Women’s Football Club.

When I sent my application to a few football clubs as a media coordinator, I never thought my childhood club would hire me. I spent the last few days looking for an outfit and stayed awake the whole night out of nervousness.

It’s already my second week, and I’m still not used to being around all these inspiring and energizing women. You weren’t exactly starstruck, but there was something about being around people you’d admired from afar that left you feeling slightly unsteady.

But it’s different with Lotte. From day one, she helped me with everything. Lotte, however, had a way of disarming you with her easy demeanor. When she introduced herself, it was as if you hadn’t spent the last three days binge-watching match highlights featuring her perfect tackles and precise passes.

Over the weeks, you got used to seeing her around the training ground. She always made an effort to say hi, even if it was just a quick wave or a casual “How’s it going?” Each interaction was brief, professional, and—you told yourself—entirely inconsequential. Except that, somehow, you found yourself looking forward to them.

She had this smile and the way she cared about everyone around her that sticks in my mind, and I can’t stop thinking about her even after work. It’s like we’ve known each other for years.

---

Today was Media Day, and even though I love the girls, I was relieved to have a moment for myself in the cafeteria. Suddenly, someone asked, 'May I join?' At first, I didn’t realize they were talking to me, but when my eyes met my favorite defender's, I knew Lotte was the one addressing me.

'Not at all,' I replied, gesturing to the empty seat.

I don’t want to admit it, but knowing I wasn’t paired up with Lotte for today’s interviews made me a bit sad. That’s why I’m even happier to spot her here during my little break.

She set down her tray, which held a steaming bowl of soup and a sandwich that looked far too healthy for my taste. 'So, how’s life in the media world? Still surviving?'

I chuckled at her words. 'It’s going well. After today, I have a lot of videos to edit, and I still write a blog for a college newspaper, with the deadline coming up, so I’m a bit stressed. The time difference with the USA makes it even harder. But who am I complaining to? I’m sure your schedule is even more packed.' I babbled, feeling a bit embarrassed that I hadn’t stopped talking. It was just a simple question—no need to turn it into a whole essay.

She listened closely the entire time, trying to keep up with me. "Really? You’re very ambitious about your job. I like that. You mentioned the USA. Are you writing for an American college?"

I felt seen, and it made me feel special. I adore her so much. I gathered my thoughts again to answer her.

"Yes! I went to the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill and have always had a passion for writing. They had a women’s football team that was still in its early stages. They inspired me so much that I decided to write about them in the weekly college newspaper. Sorry for beating around the bush, yes, I write for an American college." My cheeks turned red because, once again, I rambled on.

I noticed the sudden change in her behavior. "Wait, really?" She looked at me, kind of stunned and questioning. "I’ve been to UNC too, before signing professionally for Arsenal. Do you mean the North Carolina Tar Heels? I played for them while you were writing for them."

I widened my eyes in disbelief. "That caught me off guard—wow. We’ve been so close and never talked to each other."

“It’s like we were orbiting each other,” she said one day, her voice thoughtful. “Like we were always meant to meet, but the timing just wasn’t right.”

Her words stuck with me, replaying in my mind long after she’d said them.

---------

Over the next few weeks, sometimes Lotte would bring me a coffee. A few days later, I noticed something as she handed me the cup. "Since when do you get your coffee from that shop near Covent Garden? The one with the green awning?" She looked confused and stuttered, "Since forever. It's my favorite coffee shop. Do you know it?"

"Are you joking? I worked there a few years ago."

“I can’t believe this. It’s like we’ve been circling each other our whole lives.”

This connection with Lotte feels so magical, I can’t even process how life always seemed to bring us together.

“Maybe it’s fate,” you said softly, the words slipping out before you could stop them.

She smiled, a slow, knowing smile that made your heart skip a beat. “Maybe it is.”

-------

As the weeks turned into months, your relationship with Lotte continued to grow stronger. The bond you shared deepened, built on a foundation of shared history and the undeniable pull you felt toward each other.

One evening, as you sat on her couch with a cup of tea in hand, she reached over and intertwined her fingers with yours.

“You know,” she said softly, her voice quiet, “I’ve always believed in timing. That everything happens when it’s meant to.”

You looked at her, your heart full. “And what about us? What does this timing mean?”

She smiled, her eyes warm and steady. “It means we’re exactly where we’re supposed to be.”

And for the first time, you believed her.

[alessiasfreckles]

could you do kiss roulette #35 with leah pls?

wasting time - leah williamson x reader

35. a kiss against a wall

----

You were furious.

You'd received a yellow card for time wasting, your second one of the night after receiving one for fouling someone in the first half of the game. Even you could admit that the first card was fair, but the second one was absolute bullshit - it was the 50th minute, for god's sake, and you were 1-0 up, why would you be time-wasting?

The ref didn't want to hear it though, and sent you off with a whistle.

You stormed down the hallway to the changing room, hands clenched in tight fists. You could still hear the roar of the crowd behind you, protesting your being sent off, as well as raised voices from your teammates and Jonas.

Leah had been watching from the bench, having to sit out the game due to a twinge in her knee.

"What the fuck?" she murmured as the ref held up the red card towards you. You were not a player known for getting carded, if anything, this was your first red card in your entire history at Arsenal. She watched your brows furrow in confusion, and then your face fall as you realised you were being sent off. When you stormed off the pitch and into the tunnel, she could see your eyes glistening.

You ended up running the rest of the short distance to the changing room, needing to let out some of the angry energy that was overflowing inside you. Once you were in the changing room, you grabbed your hoodie from your cubby, balled it up in your hands, brought it up to your mouth and screamed into it, as loudly as you could.

It helped, a little.

You were still so angry, though. And so... upset. It felt like an insult to your integrity as a player. You sat down on the bench for a few seconds before standing up again, too restless to stay still.

The door opened with a soft click, catching your attention. You looked over to see Leah poking her head around the door, a concerned look on her face.

"Can I come in?" she asked, waiting for you to give her the all clear. When you nodded, she came in and closed the door gently behind her. "Are you okay?"

You started to nod, and then sighed. "Not really. I'm pissed off. And sad, about the card and about missing the rest of the game."

Leah bit her lip, still stood near the door. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"I dunno. I just- it's just not fair! I didn't deserve another yellow, I wasn't time-wasting!" you said, words pouring out now that you'd started talking. "And, like, I feel like I'm not the kind of player who does stuff like that. This is my first red card at Arsenal! I don't need to resort to things like time-wasting to fucking win, you know?"

You were pacing around the changing room by this point, working yourself up again. Your hands were clenched, and it broke Leah's heart to see you so upset and angry. She watched you pace, unsure whether to let you ride out your frustration or to intervene.

"Now people are going to think I'm that kind of player, and I'm going to have a red card in my playing stats this season, and-"

You were cut off by Leah grabbing you and pushing you against the cool stone wall, kissing you fiercely. Any angry thoughts you'd had quickly melted away as her lips moved against yours, too distracted by the feeling to think about anything else.

It was over just as quickly as it had started, Leah pulling away from you. Her hands were still on your shoulders, pushing you against the wall, and her eyes were wide. She bit her lip nervously as she watched for your reaction.

“So, all this time I just had to get a red card for you to kiss me, huh?”

[b14augrana]

Close By Me

When your team finds out about your upcoming departure from Barça to play for Lyon, your relationship with your captain takes a turn

Alexia Putellas x teen!reader

masterlist

Warnings: angst, kinda mean ale but theres a happy ending

A/N: cute and short one for ya. i really like this for some reason 🥲 i hope you do too!! ‘nobody gets me’ + ‘white ferrari’ in my head while i wrote this 🫶🏼

“You’re what?” Alexia almost yelled, her eyes bulging in shock.

The others stood around her with hands on their mouths, and the frown on Aitana’s face made your heart ache.

“I’m.. leaving, to play in Lyon,” you mumbled. You didn’t want to cry in front of all your teammates, but your lip quivered and before you knew it, there was a steady flow of tears going down your cheeks.

Your shoulders shook with every sob, but you were shrouded in warmth from the tight hugs of your teammates as they ran up to you. Aitana’s arms were wrapped around you, and you could smell Patri’s perfume and feel Frido’s fingers combing through your hair.

But there was something missing. Someone missing.

When you peeked through a gap in the hug, you could see Alexia standing dormant behind you all, her gaze fixed on the group with an unreadable expression.. one that looked similar to disappointment.

Trainings were different since then. Your favourite part used to be passing with Alexia and playing keepie-uppie tennis, but there was a tense energy that followed her as you walked up to her, a ball in your hands and a hopeful smile on your face asking to be partners.

You guys didn’t play keepie-uppie tennis. You did regular one-touch passes instead, which wasn’t nearly as fun and it started to feel like a competition as Alexia kicked the ball harder and harder every time until it got out of control and hit your calf with a loud slap.

You frowned deeply, rubbing your calf to soothe the reddening skin as Alexia walked towards you. At first, you thought she was going to help you, but instead she flicked the ball up into her hands and walked away.

You had never seen her be so cold, let alone be on the receiving end of her dull behaviour. It confused you, because you didn’t do anything wrong to make her act this way.

Her coarse behaviour continued for a week. It varied from scrutinising glances to harsh criticism’s , and you were beginning to realise that this new issue stemmed from the day you had told the team about your departure.

The others were fine. Alexia wasn’t. She was a changed woman ever since that day.

Games were a nightmare. You moved tentatively, scared of making any mistakes in front of Alexia, but that in itself was a mistake because you got berated for your indecisive moves.

She ran over to you, her face crumpled in sheer anger that made you recoil backwards slightly as the string of angry Catalan sentences came spilling out paired with aggressive hand gestures until she finally stormed away, returning to the play.

You felt like a little girl again as you stood stupidly in the middle of the pitch, trying to calm down your shaky lip and prevent any tears from falling in front of a full stadium, but you were overwhelmed with sadness and embarrassment to move. Alexia never yelled at you. She never blamed you for any mistakes.

You thought she understood how it felt to be so young and scared, given all the talks and reassurance she gave you whenever she felt like you weren’t good enough to be playing in the first team. You obviously thought wrong.

“She’s upset, hermanita,” Aitana whispered to you in the locker room after the game, her hand rubbing your back consolingly. “You mean more to her than it seems. You’re like a daughter to her, mi querido, and she isn’t used to loving someone so closely.”

You leaned into her touch, succumbing to her hug. In the locker room, it was just you and Aitana.. and your thoughts.

Back in Alexia’s apartment, there was a tense atmosphere that lingered as she sunk onto her couch, any traces of happiness absent in her face.

She had plans for you at Barcelona. She knew that you could better than her if not the best, and you’d help her crush Lyon and give her club a feel of European glory once again. All those dreams, all her plans, they were ruined.

She felt betrayed, not so much by you, but by her club for not being able to see the potential right in front of their eyes and for letting you go. She didn’t know how to handle losing you, the little girl she watched grow up for years, to the team that she had never been able to beat in her career. It would be harder than ever to try beat them now that you were set to be in their squad.

Alexia wasn’t emotional. She didn’t want anyone to think she felt strongly towards anything except winning, Barça, and winning again. If you were going to play for Lyon, she wanted to make sure you were ready, by making you face the worst side of her to prepare you for playing with the best.

Second best, behind Barça. Obviously.

You had spent your entire Friday night scheming up ways to get back on good terms with Alexia.

That’s how you ended up on her front doorstep, hesitating to ring the doorbell, with your means of mediation in hand.

Before you could weigh up all the possible outcomes, you lurched forward and hit the doorbell. You could hear footsteps inching closer to the door from behind it, and you scrambled to straighten up.

When Alexia opened the door, there you were, big-eyed and scuffing the floor with your shoe nervously.

“Hi Ale,” you started nervously, looking at the ground momentarily before gazing back up at her and sticking your hand out, “I made cookies… double chocolate chip, your favourite.”

You stayed up all night making them to perfection. You kept the slightly burnt or malformed batches for your family to eat and gave her the batch you were most proud of.

She took them from your hands, and the smile on her face made you breathe a silent sigh of relief. She looked at the container, examining the batch of cookies before nodding towards the interior of her home, “Come inside, please.”

You stepped into her apartment, a familiar place that you were sure to miss once you were in France. She gestured for you to sit down as she placed your cookies on the bench, but you stayed standing. The woman turned back around and was surprised to see you still standing until you spoke.

“I don’t want you to be angry at me, Ale. I want to be on your good side because I really love you and being your friend,” you rambled, conveying weeks of rough emotions to her in a minute, “I miss playing keepie-uppie tennis with you and I hope you’ll still care about me when I go to Lyon and–”

You were cut off as you were smothered in a warm, tight hug. The blonde wrapped her arms around you, and when she pulled away, she looked at you with a soft expression.

“I care for you now and I will, forever,” she whispered, moving strands of hair out of your face. Your cheeks went warm, and the feeling of tears emerging in your eyes swallowed you whole, the only difference being what they represented; they weren’t tears of sadness or worry. This time, they were happy tears from finally communicating with Alexia and getting through to the fact that she still loved you.

Her hand reached your shoulder to place a steady grip on it as she spoke once more, her voice low and on the verge of breaking as shown by the slight shakiness to it. “I’m so sorry for how I acted, I just– how am I supposed to let you go, mi todo?”

“Don’t,” you responded, your lips teetering between a smile and a frown.

“You are more than just my captain, Ale, you’re my second mamá. You always will be. It’s impossible to let that go.”

[baeksqt]

𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐑𝐄 - aitana bonmatí

aitana bonmatí x fem!lyon!reader

(a/n: had this sitting in my drafts since she won the ballon d'or, and I finally have a small break so enjoy luvvies (*^‿^*))

word count: 1243

genre: fluff

summary: an adorable aitana meetcute

On a breezy spring afternoon in Barcelona, the cosy bookshop cafe Letras Vivas buzzed with its usual charm. Tucked away on a quiet side street, a haven for readers and coffee lovers alike. The warm aroma of roasted beans mingled with the soft rustle of pages being turned and the occasional tinkling of laughter from patrons. The cafe was the kind of place where time seemed to slow, where strangers might strike up conversations over dog-eared novels or debate the best way to make a cortado.

You step inside, grateful for the reprieve from the city’s lively streets. The team had arrived in Barcelona a few days early to acclimate before the upcoming Champions League final. The pressure was immense – two giants of women’s football going head-to-head – but you had sought this little sanctuary for some peace. As much as you thrive on competition, moments like these were a way to offer clarity amidst the chaos.

Clad in a casual, well-worn shirt and a pair of faded jeans, you seemed a world away from the electrifying football star celebrated in the vibrant match posters that adorned the streets of Lyon. As you moved through the dimly lit bookstore, your fingers delicately glided over the spines of countless books lining the shelves near the entrance, occasionally pausing to absorb the titles that beckoned softly. Your gaze eventually landed on a novel, its cover a breathtaking watercolour that captured the charm of a seaside town, an irresistible pull urging you to pull it from the shelf and delve into its world.

At the counter, Aitana Bonmatí, FC Barcelona’s fiery midfielder, was already ordering her cappuccino. The barista seemed charmed by Aitana’s easy banter, her quick wit and warm laugh lighting up the space. She exuded the kind of confidence that came from knowing you were exactly where you belonged. The distinctive red-and-blue hoodie with Barça’s crest proudly displayed was casually slung over her shoulders, and drew occasional glances, but most were too polite to approach her.

As you approached the counter, Aitana turned, her grin wide and inviting, her hazel eyes bright with recognition. It took you a heartbeat to place her–you had seen that grin a hundred times before, from game footage to interviews to across the pitch. The face of Barcelona’s squad and one the most formidable centres in the game. And in just three days, your opponent. Once again. 

Aitana didn’t miss the split second of hesitation that flickered across your face, and she seized the opportunity to break the ice with a playful energy. “Hey,” she said, her voice warm and laced with just a hint of mischief. “Nice to see you off the pitch.”

You blinked, caught slightly off guard but managing a smile. “Oh, uh, hi. Didn’t expect to run into you here.” Your Andalusian accent was unmistakable, and Aitana’s grin grew wider.

“You Lyon players just can’t resist the good spots, huh?” Aitana quipped, leaning casually against the counter. Her eyes flicked to the book in your hand. “Good choice. That’s one of my favourites.”

You raised an eyebrow, holding up the book. “Really? You’ve read it?”

Aitana’s eyes lit up with enthusiasm as she nodded, her ponytail swaying rhythmically with her head. “You won’t believe how captivating it is! It unfolds in this charming little fishing village—teeming with intense drama, sweeping love stories, and heart-wrenching heartbreak… it’s absolutely everything you could want! Imagine it like football, but infused with much more romance and way fewer tackles!”

A smile crept across your face as you placed the book on the counter, the rich aroma of freshly brewed coffee filling the air. “I’ll take your word for it, but relying on my opponent’s taste in literature? That feels like a risky move!”

“Oh, come on! Today, we’re not opponents at all!” The mischievous glint in Aitana’s eyes mirrored her playful smirk. “We’re just two enthusiasts who appreciate fine coffee and extraordinary tales.”

The barista expertly crafted Aitana’s cappuccino, the velvety foam adorned with an artful heart-shaped swirl that seemed to float above the cup. Instead of making a beeline for the door, Aitana lingered, her presence radiating warmth and curiosity as she patiently waited for you to finish your order, the air around you charged with an electric sense of connection. When you joined her at a nearby table, your conversation flowed with surprising ease.

Listening intently, as Aitana, ever the local, effortlessly wove stories about her childhood in Vilanova. Her voice softened as she talked about watching games at Camp Nou as a kid, her dreams of one day playing on the same pitch now a reality. She pointed out a few must-visit spots within Barcelona, her favourite tapas bar tucked away in El Born and a rooftop terrace with breathtaking views of the city at sunset.

It was your turn to share, Aitana leaned in, intrigued as you painted a picture of life in France. Your voice gained a quiet pride as you described Lyon’s relentless training culture—the way it pushed everyone to their limits and brought out the best in them. The early morning drills in the pouring rain, late-night strategy sessions, and the camaraderie that came from working with some of the best players in the game.

“So you’re telling me you actually enjoy those gruelling training sessions? Compared to the easiness of Madrid?” The brunette questioned.

“It’s not about enjoying them, exactly.” You shrugged, your smile softening. “It’s about knowing they make me better. And there’s something fun about the discipline, the way it transforms you. Being at Real Madrid, I never had that.” You finished.

Aitana nodded thoughtfully, her playful demeanour giving way to a moment of genuine admiration. “I get that,” she said. “I think that’s why I love playing here—Barcelona’s always pushed me to be more, too.”

Her words hung between the two of you, a shared understanding unspoken but felt. Despite the teams they represented and the rivalry that defined them season after season. They were, at their core, not so different. For a moment, the looming match disappeared, replaced by the quiet connection of two people who understood what it meant to give everything to the sport they loved.

“So,” Aitana began, cradling her cup, her tone suddenly teasing, “how’s Lyon feeling about Saturday? Ready to lose?”

You leaned forward, a playful spark in your eyes. “Confident enough to say you’ll be the one losing.” you shot back. Your laughter mingled, drawing a few curious glances from other patrons, but neither of you seemed to care, bantering for what felt like hours.

As the sun began to dip, casting the cafe in a warm golden glow, you both reluctantly stood to leave. Outside, the streets buzzed with life, the distant hum of a guitar echoing from a nearby plaza. 

At the door, Aitana paused, turning to you with a smile softer than her usual confident smirk. “You know,” she said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, “maybe after the match, we should grab a coffee again. No rivalries—just books and good company.”

You tilted your head, cheeks dimpling into a grin. “Deal. But only if Lyon wins.”

Aitana laughed, backing away towards the bustling street, her voice carrying over the noise. “We’ll see about that!”

As you walked in opposite directions, you felt a strange lightness—a fleeting connection sparked by chance, lingering even as you prepared to face her on one of the biggest stages in football.