could i please request: leah williamson x single mom reader ( to like a 1 year old) maybe they meet at a cafe and r and leah go on some dates and on one date r is in the middle of telling leah about her daughter “ i have something really important to tell you, i understand if you want to end whatever we have right now when you find out” when she gets a call from the babysitter that her daughter won’t stop crying and she has to go home, so she panics and says she needs to go home so leah offers to drive her and when they get there r just hops out of the car and runs inside leaving the door open so leah slowly walks in behind her and sees her and her daughter
btw i love your writing!
what we don’t say
leah x reader
warnings: daughter
~~~
You didn’t expect much from the coffee shop that day. Just caffeine. A little quiet. Maybe five whole minutes without someone wiping their nose on your shirt or throwing puffs across the floor like confetti.
You loved her. God, you loved her more than anything. But being a single mum to a one-year-old? Exhausting didn’t even begin to cover it.
So yeah, coffee. That’s all you came for.
And then Leah Williamson held the door open for you.
You barely looked up, too busy juggling your bag, your keys, and a sippy cup that somehow always leaked. But she smiled. One of those soft, knowing ones. The kind that didn’t feel performative, just kind.
You smiled back because, well. Have you seen her?
She held the door. Let you go ahead. And then, somehow, ended up behind you in line. And then beside you while you waited. And then leaning in with a little laugh to say, “Don’t worry, I always panic at the till too.”
And maybe you laughed a little too loudly. Or maybe she just liked your laugh. Either way, she asked if she could sit with you. And you said yes before your brain caught up with your mouth.
You didn’t tell her anything real that day. Not your last name. Not what your life looked like. Just that you were tired and the coffee helped and the weather had been a bit shit lately.
She didn’t ask much.
She just made you laugh. And you let yourself feel normal for twenty whole minutes.
That should’ve been it. A one-off thing. A cute story you never told anyone.
But then she showed up again.
And again.
And again.
And suddenly you were texting. Grinning like a fool when her name popped up. Going on walks that turned into lunch. Lunches that turned into “You’re actually really easy to talk to.”
You never meant to let it get this far. You never meant to feel this much.
But she made it so easy.
By the time your third official date rolled around, you knew you had to say something.
You’d been putting it off. Convincing yourself it wasn’t the right time. That it was too soon. That she’d run. That she’d hear the word daughter and suddenly remember she left the oven on.
But she was sitting across from you in that quiet little pub, her eyes soft, her fingers brushing yours over the table like it was the most natural thing in the world. Like there was nowhere else she’d rather be.
And you knew you had to say it.
“I have something I need to tell you,” you said, voice a little too stiff.
Her brows furrowed just slightly, but she didn’t let go of your hand.
“I don’t want to scare you off,” you added quickly. “But I also can’t keep this from you. And I get it if you want to end this once you know. I really do.”
She opened her mouth to respond, but then—
Your phone buzzed.
Loud against the wood of the table.
You glanced down. One look at the name and your stomach dropped.
It was your sitter.
You picked up immediately. “Hey, everything okay?”
The answer was no.
“She won’t stop crying,” your sitter said. “I’ve tried milk, I’ve changed her, I rocked her, everything. I don’t know what’s wrong.”
Your heart was already pounding. “I’m on my way.”
You hung up without explaining. Stood up too fast. Grabbed your coat and your phone and—
“I’m sorry. I have to go.”
Leah stood too, her hand on your arm. “Is everything alright?”
You hesitated. “My daughter, my babysitter called, she’s inconsolable and I just, I have to go.”
You didn’t mean to say daughter like that. Like you were dropping a bomb. Like you were bracing for impact.
But you were. Because now she knew.
You didn’t even give her time to respond before you were turning to leave.
“I’ll drive you,” Leah said quickly.
You froze.
“What?”
“Let me drive you. You’re shaking. You’re not going to focus if you’re behind the wheel.”
You looked at her, really looked at her, and her face wasn’t full of judgment. Or panic. Or that polite smile people use when they’re already thinking of their exit.
She just looked worried.
She just looked like she wanted to help.
You barely spoke in the car.
Leah didn’t push. Just kept her hand steady on the wheel, glancing over every now and then to make sure you were okay. She didn’t ask about your daughter. Didn’t ask why you’d never mentioned her. Just drove, quiet and steady.
When she pulled up to your place, you barely managed to say thank you before you were already out the door.
You didn’t even shut it behind you.
Leah got out slowly, unsure if she should follow. The door was still open, and the panic in your eyes was still fresh in her mind.
So she stepped inside.
And there you were.
In the middle of your small living room, down on your knees, holding a wailing little girl to your chest. Rocking back and forth with your eyes squeezed shut and your voice whispering “shh, shh, mummy’s here, it’s okay now.”
Leah froze in the doorway.
You didn’t notice her at first. Too focused. Too overwhelmed. Too caught in that instinct that only comes when someone’s whole world is crying in your arms.
But when your daughter’s cries started to soften, when her fingers clutched the fabric of your shirt and her head tucked into your neck, you finally looked up.
And Leah was still there.
Quiet. Hesitant. But still there.
“I didn’t mean for you to find out like this,” you said softly.
Leah stepped forward, just a bit. Her eyes locked on the little girl now hiccuping against your chest. “She’s beautiful.”
You blinked. “You’re not… freaked out?”
She smiled, small and genuine. “A little surprised. Not freaked out.”
You shifted, one arm still cradling your daughter. “I was going to tell you tonight. Before the call. I just… didn’t want to scare you off.”
Leah took another step. “She’s your daughter. That’s not scary. That’s honestly kind of amazing.”
You blinked again. “Really?”
“Yeah,” she said, then crouched a little so she wasn’t towering over you both. “And now I get why you always smell like baby wipes.”
You laughed, soft and surprised, and your daughter stirred a little, her sleepy eyes cracking open to look at the new person in the room.
Leah smiled at her. “Hey, sweetheart.”
And your daughter… smiled back.
Small. Wobbly. But real.
And you felt something shift in your chest.
“I’m not going anywhere,” Leah said quietly, eyes still on your daughter. “If you’ll let me stay.”
You swallowed hard.
And nodded.
“Yeah,” you whispered. “I think I’d like that.”
And maybe it wasn’t how you planned it.
But maybe, just maybe, it was exactly how it was meant to happen.
Waking up to a cold pillow. Sheets twisted, still smelling like her. Your arm outstretched, reaching for warmth that wasn’t there. No sleepy kisses. No quiet raspy voice saying “good morning.” Just that same hollow space where she always used to be, the one that made your chest ache before your eyes even opened.
She never stayed. And it was a routine now, one you hated but still fell into every time.
Late-night texts. A knock at your door that never really was a knock, more just a presence, soft footsteps, a key turning like muscle memory, and then her. Always her. Walking in like she owned the place. Like she belonged there. And the second you looked at her, it was over. Her lips would be on yours. Hands in your hair. That urgency, that need, that something that felt like more than lust but never made it past the front door.
It killed you because you knew what it was for you.
And you couldn’t tell if it was the same for her.
You needed her in the dark, sure, but you needed her when the sun came up too. In real life. In the locker room. On the pitch. On slow afternoons when nothing needed to be said except “stay.”
But she never did.
She always left before morning, before the light, before the consequences.
And then you’d show up to training and have to act like nothing happened. Like you weren’t completely unraveling every time she smiled at someone else like she didn’t crawl into your bed six hours earlier.
Like she hadn’t made you feel everything and then vanished.
Training was actual hell.
Not just because it was hot or because Jonatan was pushing you through drills that made your legs burn, but because Pina acted like you were just another teammate.
And maybe you were.
Maybe that’s all you were allowed to be.
She never lingered when you talked. Never sat too close. Never let her gaze slip for too long. It was calculated. She was careful. So careful. And if you didn’t know her, if you hadn’t had her in your arms the night before, you might believe there was nothing between you.
But there was.
God, there was.
And yet, still, she made you feel like a secret.
Alexia would kill us, she’d say, shrugging like that ended the conversation. Patri would give us shit for months. Ingrid would never let it go. Irene would give us some big speech about crossing lines and staying focused.
And fine. Maybe they would.
But you didn’t care anymore.
Because every time she left before dawn, it chipped away at something you were trying to protect.
Today was no different.
You were zoning out mid-drill when her voice cut through everything.
“Are you even paying attention?”
You blinked, caught in the act, and realized too late that you’d been staring.
She was standing there, arms crossed, sweat dripping down her neck. Her shirt was sticking to her skin, her eyes locked on you, unreadable as always.
“Yeah,” you said quickly. “Yeah, I’m good.”
She tossed the ball to you like she didn’t believe you. “Then show me.”
You nodded, forcing yourself to move. To play. To focus. But your legs were heavy and your brain was louder than it should’ve been and all you could think about was her lips on your skin and the way your bed had felt too empty this morning.
And she just carried on.
Like it was nothing.
Like you were nothing.
That night when she showed up again—same knock, same eyes, same desperation—you almost didn’t open the door.
Almost.
But then you did. Of course you did.
She stepped inside without a word. Her eyes met yours like she was searching for something, and the second the door clicked shut, her hands were on your face and her mouth was on yours and suddenly you couldn’t remember how to breathe.
She kissed you like she needed it. Like you were the only thing tethering her to the ground. And you kissed her back like she hadn’t just shattered you twelve hours ago.
You weren’t sure when your eyes started burning. Only that the tears were there now, and she was kissing down your neck and holding your hips like she didn’t want to let go.
But she would.
She always did.
And you couldn’t take it anymore.
So when she pulled back, panting, her forehead against yours, you whispered it, soft, barely audible, but it was the loudest thing you’d ever said.
“Stay.”
She tensed. Just slightly. But you felt it.
“Just once,” you breathed, your hands sliding to her jaw. “Don’t leave. Just… stay.”
Silence.
Long, aching silence.
And then she pulled back, just enough.
And your heart cracked.
You stepped away, blinking fast. “Yeah,” you laughed bitterly, wiping at your face. “I don’t know why I thought this time would be different.”
“I love you.”
You stopped breathing.
“What?”
Her voice broke a little. “I love you.”
You turned, stunned. Her fists were clenched at her sides, her shoulders tight like she was ready to bolt.
“I leave because I love you,” she said again, quieter this time. “And I’m scared.”
You stared. “That doesn’t even make sense.”
“It does to me,” she whispered. “Because if I stay, if I wake up next to you, if I let myself have this in the morning, not just at night, then I can’t pretend anymore. I can’t hide it. I can’t be your teammate like nothing’s going on.”
You stepped forward slowly. “Then don’t.”
She laughed, a little too sharp. “It’s not that easy.”
“It is,” you said, voice firm now. “It is that easy. We stop pretending. We let them talk. We let them roll their eyes. I don’t care if Alexia gives us the lecture of a lifetime. I don’t care if Patri starts placing bets on how long we last. I don’t care, Pina. I just want to wake up next to you. I want to hold your hand at breakfast. I want to stop hiding like this is some shameful thing when it’s—”
You paused.
“When it’s the best thing I’ve ever felt.”
She was crying now. You didn’t even realize when she started. But her cheeks were wet, and her mouth was trembling, and before you could say anything else, she surged forward.
The kiss this time was different.
Not desperate. Not urgent.
Just real.
Full of everything she never let herself say. Everything you’d been waiting for.
She kissed you like she was choosing you. Like maybe, for once, she didn’t want to leave.
And when she finally pulled away, her hands were on your face like you were the most precious thing in the world.
“I don’t want to run anymore,” she whispered.
You nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat. “Then stay.”
And this time, she did.
She stayed when you led her back to bed. She stayed when the sheets tangled around your legs and your hands curled in her shirt. She stayed when the world went quiet.
And for the first time in months, when the morning light filtered in and you opened your eyes—
mayhaps a blurb about a love triangle where reader has to decide between two players (obi and your choice) and she chooses obi?
Almosts and Always
Obi x reader
Aggie x reader
~~~
You never meant for it to get complicated.
At first, it was just… comfort. Something easy in the chaos of national team camps. Long travel days and even longer sessions, and Aggie had this way of making everything feel lighter. She was flirty and warm and casual, always joking, always pulling you into things, always teasing in a way that made it easy to lean into whatever was happening between you.
No one ever labeled it. You didn’t even talk about it, really. It just was. You shared hotel beds more often than not. Her hoodie was always in your suitcase by accident (or maybe on purpose). You’d sit too close on the bus and hold eye contact for a second too long in the gym. Sometimes she'd kiss you. Sometimes you kissed her first.
It wasn’t nothing.
But it wasn’t everything.
And maybe that’s what made it worse.
Because even when you were tangled up with her, phone buzzing with her name, arms slung lazily around each other after a win, your brain would still flicker to her.
To Lena.
Lena, who you saw every single day at Bayern. Lena, who never pushed, never asked, never acted like she had any kind of claim to you, but still felt like gravity whenever she was in the room. You’d hear her laugh across the gym and immediately turn your head. You’d see her tying her boots and find yourself watching her fingers like they were doing something profound.
She never flirted, not the way Aggie did. Never touched you more than necessary. Never let you know how she felt — if she felt anything, but somehow that made it worse.
Because your heart was never quiet around her. Not really.
You remember the first time it really hit you, like really hit you, how deep it had gone without you noticing.
It was after training. The pitch was muddy, the sky low and gray, and you were both the last ones out there. She was messing around with a ball near the sideline, juggling lazily with her eyes half on you, and you said something dumb, you don’t even remember what, and she smiled at you like she couldn’t help it.
Like smiling at you was involuntary.
And your chest physically ached.
You went home that day and ignored three messages from Aggie. Turned your phone over and stared at the ceiling instead.
Because here’s the thing: Aggie made you feel wanted. Desired. Chosen.
But Lena made you feel known. Even in silence.
And the closer you got to figuring that out, the harder it got to pretend that things with Aggie were okay.
It wasn’t her fault. You liked her. You cared about her. But every time she touched you, you found yourself going still instead of leaning in. Every time she called you “babe,” you felt it land somewhere just short of your chest. And the guilt of that, of letting something go on when your heart wasn’t really in it, started to eat at you.
So you ended it.
Not with drama. Not with a fight. Just a quiet message after camp: hey, I don’t think this is fair to you. I care about you so much, but not in the way you deserve.
She took it like she always does, a little sarcastic, a little distant, but kind underneath it.
figured tbh. she’s all over your face every time you talk about training. no hard feelings.
You didn’t reply right away. You just sat with that. The truth of it. The way you never had to say Lena’s name for people to know.
Because it had always been Lena.
Even when you didn’t want to admit it.
Even when you were trying not to fall.
So yeah, after that, you were different around her. Not louder. Not flirtier. Just more present. More honest. You’d linger longer in the gym. Laugh easier when she was around. Let your shoulder brush hers during team talks and not pull away like you used to.
She noticed. Of course she did. But she didn’t say anything. Not until the day you pulled her aside after training, hands shaking a little even though you’d rehearsed it a dozen times in your head.
“I ended it with Aggie,” you said.
She looked up from where she was tying her boots. Blinked. “Didn’t know it was official.”
You nodded. “It wasn’t. But… it still felt like something I had to end.”
Silence stretched for a beat. Two. The kind of pause that made your stomach twist.
Then: “Why are you telling me this?”
You swallowed. “Because it felt wrong to not tell you.”
That got her attention. She sat back, arms resting on her knees, and watched you carefully.
You could’ve lied. Kept it casual. You didn’t.
“I’ve been trying to convince myself for months that I didn’t feel the way I do about you,” you said, voice barely above a whisper. “Because you’ve never said anything, and I didn’t want to make it weird. But I...Lena, I think I’m in love with you. And I don’t want to keep pretending I’m not.”
For a long moment, she didn’t say anything.
And then she stood.
Took a slow step forward.
And kissed you.
Not urgently. Not hungrily. Just surely. Like she'd been waiting for this moment, like she’d imagined it just as many times as you had, and now that it was happening, she didn’t want to rush it.
When she pulled back, her forehead rested against yours.
“Took you long enough,” she whispered, and you could hear the smile in her voice.
You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding.
hii can i request lynn wilms x reader with prompt number 4 <3
Right Here, Always
Lynn x reader
~~~
Your body was tired in that deep, bone-heavy way that made even blinking feel like effort. The kind of tired that came from twelve hours on your feet, a hospital floor that never slowed down, and a brain that hadn’t stopped running since 6 a.m. Your name tag still clung crooked to your scrubs, and you were about three seconds from collapsing the second your key turned in the lock.
The apartment was quiet when you stepped in, dimly lit with the warm glow of the lamp Lynn always turned on before you came home. Your heart eased a little at the sight of it, your shared little space in Wolfsburg. Shoes tucked haphazardly by the door. Her hoodie slung over the back of the chair. That tiny slice of life you’d built together.
You kicked off your sneakers and didn’t even make it fully into the living room before Lynn appeared in the doorway, her hair in a messy bun, wearing your favorite hoodie of hers and a pair of those comfy grey joggers that she owned like three pairs of.
Her face lit up when she saw you.
“Hey,” she said, voice quiet like she knew you didn’t have much left in the tank.
“Hi,” you breathed, and just like that, the rest of your day dropped off your shoulders.
She stepped forward, slipping her arms around your waist. “Rough one?”
You nodded, head tipping forward to rest against her shoulder. She ran a gentle hand up and down your back.
“No talking,” you mumbled. “Just holding.”
Lynn laughed softly. “Deal.”
You stayed like that for a minute, swaying slightly in place, her arms a cocoon around you, her body warm and steady and here.
Eventually, she nudged your temple with her lips. “Come on. Couch. You need to not stand anymore.”
You let her guide you to the couch and collapsed without resistance, head landing in her lap. She adjusted without complaint, her fingers already slipping into your hair with the kind of tenderness that made your chest ache a little.
“How was training?” you asked quietly, voice muffled by the hem of her hoodie.
She shrugged, careful not to jostle you. “Good. Nothing exciting. Jule tried to nutmeg me again, failed miserably.”
You smiled weakly.
Her hand kept moving through your hair, slow and rhythmic. Your eyes were already drooping. There was something about being with her like this, quiet, soft, no pressure to be anything but tired, that let your body finally, finally relax.
“You know,” Lynn murmured, her voice a low hum you felt more than heard, “when we were sixteen and you told me you wanted to be a nurse, I don’t think I realized how hard that job would be on you.”
You shifted slightly, her hand never stopping. “You were busy trying to make it pro.”
“Yeah, and you were studying until 2 a.m. and making me tea for my nerves before every big game,” she said softly.
A pause.
“I’m proud of you.”
The words hit something soft in you, something that had been holding its breath all day.
You didn’t say anything. Just turned your face into her thigh and exhaled slowly.
She leaned down and pressed a kiss to the crown of your head.
“Rest. I’ve got you.”
And you did. You didn’t mean to fall asleep, you just closed your eyes for a second, wrapped in her scent and her warmth, the world finally quiet, and everything faded.
When you woke up, it was dark. Lynn was still there, one arm draped across your back protectively, her head tilted back on the couch cushion, completely asleep.
You blinked slowly, heart full in that quiet, steady way. This girl, the one you’d known since you were both just kids, was still your safe place. Still home.
You closed your eyes again and let yourself drift back, her heartbeat steady under your ear.
20 with patri pls! 💕 you could also do alexia or pina or even claudia+pina+ reader, i don’t mind!
Finally
Patri x reader
~~~
It still doesn’t feel real.
You keep catching yourself looking down at your hand like you’ve imagined it, like maybe you’re still asleep on that beach, the waves still crashing and Patri still kneeling in the sand with that stupidly beautiful little ring box and her voice shaking when she said your name.
But nope. You’re awake. You’ve been awake since 6 a.m., wide-eyed in bed, staring at the ceiling while Patri slept curled around you, ring on your finger, heart still pounding like it hadn’t quite caught up.
She proposed.
Not next month, not during your vacation like she’d been teasing for weeks. Not on the day you thought it was going to happen.
No, she did it last night. On a little private beach, after a stupidly romantic dinner, under a sky that had turned all gold and pink and ridiculous like something out of a movie. You’d been laughing about dessert, something about how the chocolate mousse was better than anything you’d had in Paris, and she’d pulled out the ring in the middle of your sentence like she couldn’t wait another second.
No big speech. Just her eyes, and her voice breaking a little when she said, “I love you. And I want to marry you.”
You don’t even remember saying yes, really. You launched yourself at her. Pretty sure you both ended up with sand in your mouths and tears in your eyes.
And now you’re here. At training. With a ring on your finger.
You tried to hide it at first, just for fun, just to see who’d notice, but that lasted all of 0.3 seconds because Cata immediately spotted it while you were pulling off your hoodie in the locker room.
Her jaw dropped. “Wait. No way.”
You grinned. Couldn’t help it. “Way.”
Claudia shrieked first. Like, literally shrieked. Then Alexia whipped around and grabbed your hand to confirm it, and Mapi straight-up shoved Jana into a bench trying to get a look.
“Oh my god,” Ingrid breathed. “Finally.”
That was the key word of the morning, apparently.
“FINALLY,” Cata repeated, spinning in a circle like she’d just won a bet.
“You’ve been insufferable for three years,” Mapi added, “and now you’re going to be even worse.”
You were blushing like crazy, laughing and trying to keep your hand from getting ripped off by everyone grabbing it. “Wait, worse how?”
“You’re already obsessed with each other,” Claudia said, half-laughing, half-exasperated. “Now we’re going to have to hear you calling each other ‘fiancée’ for the next year like you invented love.”
“I did invent love,” you said proudly.
Patri walked in about five minutes later, fully unaware of the chaos she was about to walk into. As soon as she stepped into the locker room, someone, probably Jana, shouted, “THERE’S THE WIFE,” and everyone absolutely lost it.
She froze in the doorway, cheeks going bright red, then looked at you like, you told them?
You just held up your hand and wiggled your fingers at her.
She smiled, that soft, quiet, head-over-heels kind of smile she only ever saves for you, and walked over, kissed your forehead like you weren’t surrounded by screaming teammates, and whispered, “You’ve already told them we’re obsessed with each other, huh?”
You nodded. “I didn’t need to. They already knew.”
Alexia came up behind you and smacked your shoulder gently. “Okay but when’s the wedding. Because I’m not waiting another three years for that.”
“Oh god,” Patri muttered, already looking overwhelmed.
“It’s fine,” you said. “We’ll elope. Right now. Ingrid can officiate.”
You got booed for that idea, obviously.
And the whole session was kind of a mess, Claudia kept humming the wedding march every time you touched the ball, and Mapi kept saying “mis mujeres casadas” dramatically every time she walked past the two of you, but honestly, it was the best kind of chaos.
Because she loves you. You love her. And now you’re going to marry her.
If you feel like it, i'd love a part 2 to quite pining that you wrote with lia
Quiet Pining 2
Lia Walti x reader
~~~
The night before the match, you couldn’t sleep.
Again.
You were curled up on your side, the room dark and quiet, except for the soft hum of traffic outside your flat window. But your mind wouldn’t turn off. Not when it kept flipping between Roma’s attacking lineup and Lia’s eyes on you in the car earlier.
You kept thinking about the way she looked at you right before she answered her phone, like maybe she had felt something too. But maybe that was just wishful thinking.
The what-ifs were torture.
What if she knew? What if Leah told her? What if she’d only offered the ride because she felt bad for you?
And more than anything, what if this ruined everything?
By the time your alarm buzzed in the morning, your stomach was already in knots. You showed up to match day prep trying your best to look normal, even though you felt like a walking bundle of stress in a hoodie.
Katie and Beth were buzzing with energy in the locker room, pulling faces at each other as they tied their boots. Leah was focused, headphones in, already zoned in. And Lia… Lia was sitting a few lockers down, pulling her hair into a braid and laughing at something Kim said.
You felt your heart stutter again. Like it always did.
You didn’t even know when it started, not really. You’d known her for years. She was one of Leah’s closest friends. Always calm, always kind, always a little mysterious in that way that made you want to know everything about her. Somewhere along the line, the butterflies had turned into something more. Something that stuck.
"Hey," Lia said, suddenly beside you. You jumped slightly, turning too fast and almost knocking your water bottle over.
She laughed softly. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you.”
You forced a smile. “No, no, you’re good. Just in my head.”
“Match day nerves?”
You nodded quickly. “Something like that.”
She looked at you a little longer than necessary, like she wanted to say something else but decided against it. Then she just reached out and gently squeezed your arm. “You’ll do great. You always do.”
And then she walked away, leaving you stuck in that spot, blinking, heart thudding loud in your ears.
~~~
The stadium buzzed with energy.
Champions League nights always had that certain electricity in the air. The floodlights, the crowd, the music — it made your blood feel like it was vibrating. But underneath it all was that thread of anxiety you couldn’t quite shake.
You stood in the tunnel next to Leah, adjusting your gloves, trying not to look across the pitch at Roma’s forward line.
“You good?” Leah asked, bumping your shoulder.
You gave a shaky exhale. “Ask me in 90 minutes.”
She grinned. “You’ve got this.”
And you did. Once the whistle blew, instinct took over. You found your rhythm in the game — the footwork, the communication, the positioning. There were moments where it was all reflex, pure muscle memory, where you didn’t have time to think about anything but the ball.
Until about midway through the second half, when you made a huge save.
Roma’s striker had gotten in behind the line and fired a low shot, and you dropped fast, getting just enough of a hand on it to deflect it wide. The crowd roared. Your teammates swarmed you. And as you stood up, brushing the grass off your kit, you caught Lia’s eyes across the pitch.
She was already looking at you, beaming, proud, like you’d just scored the winner.
And that did something to you.
~~~
Arsenal won 2–0.
The locker room was chaos. Everyone was loud and happy and throwing water at each other like it was champagne. Katie danced on the bench. Kyra was being a pest. Beth was recording a TikTok no one had consented to.
You were half out of your kit when Leah clapped you on the back.
“Unreal save,” she said. “Seriously. You were solid.”
“Thanks,” you said, smiling, hair sticking to your forehead. “Felt good out there.”
“You ready now?” she asked, dropping her voice. “To ask her?”
You froze for a second.
You wanted to. You really did. But your heart felt like it was trying to climb out of your chest.
“Yeah,” you said softly. “I think I am.”
Lia was standing near the tunnel later, dressed in her coat and scarf, sipping from a thermos. Most of the team was still inside, and the crowd had thinned. You spotted her immediately, she was looking up at the night sky, like she didn’t have a care in the world.
You walked up slowly, every step feeling like it might be the one that changed everything.
“Hey,” you said, voice nervous but steady.
She turned, her smile soft and surprised. “Hey! You were amazing tonight.”
“Thanks,” you said, rubbing your neck. “Means a lot coming from you.”
Lia tilted her head. “You okay?”
“Actually… there’s something I wanted to say,” you began, heart pounding now.
She nodded, waiting.
You took a breath.
“I’ve liked you for a while. A long while, actually. And I know it’s maybe complicated because of Leah and all that, but I couldn’t keep pretending I didn’t feel something.”
You paused, trying to read her expression.
Lia blinked, then smiled, slowly, like it was growing from something quiet and certain.
“Y/n,” she said gently. “I’ve been waiting for you to say that.”
You blinked. “Wait—what?”
She laughed softly. “You really think I offered to drive you home yesterday just to be nice?”
You stared, stunned. “You… you like me back?”
Lia stepped closer, her voice barely above a whisper. “Yeah. I do.”
And before you could say anything else, she reached out and gently took your hand in hers.
Can you please write number 27 with Obi? I love your stories!!!
Professional Conduct (Or Lack Thereof)
Obi x reader
~~~
It started off like a normal training session. The kind where everyone was still a little sore from gym work the day before, trying not to show it. A light warm-up, a few passing patterns, some finishing drills that surprisingly no one took too seriously, and then, as always, small-sided games.
Red vs. white bibs.
Lena ended up on white. You were on red.
You made eye contact across the pitch and she gave you that smirky little look. The one that said she already had a plan.
So you should’ve known.
The second you got the ball, she was on you.
You pivoted, back to goal, trying to shield it, but her arm snaked around your waist like it belonged there. Not in the “I’m here to steal the ball” way. More like the “this is mine” kind of way.
“Lena,” you warned, twisting away. “This is training.”
She just smiled and kept moving, hips brushing yours way more than necessary as you passed off the ball.
Next play, same thing. She pressed up behind you again, tighter this time, like her job was to make sure your shirts were touching. Her hand landed on your side, then your stomach, lingering for maybe half a second too long as you turned out of pressure.
You snapped your head over your shoulder and muttered low enough that only she could hear, “Your hands are all over me during drills.”
She grinned, completely unrepentant. “Blame muscle memory.”
You raised an eyebrow. “Mine or yours?”
“Both, probably,” she said, voice low and annoyingly smug.
You rolled your eyes and stepped away to reset, but not before adding under your breath, “Save it for the bedroom, Oberdorf.”
You didn’t think she’d hear you. She definitely did.
You heard her stumble, just for a beat, then she coughed to cover her laugh as the coach whistled to restart the drill. You didn’t look back, but you could feel her smirking behind you.
And sure enough, next time she marked you, she wasn’t pressing quite as close. Still physical, still competitive, she wouldn’t be Lena if she weren’t, but she’d dialed it back enough to at least pretend she wasn’t enjoying this a little too much.
After a solid twenty minutes of drills, the whistle blew for a quick water break. You made your way to the cooler and barely got your bottle open before Lena came up behind you, leaning in like she couldn’t help herself.
“You’re not mad at me, right?” she asked, voice all faux-innocent.
You side-eyed her. “You were acting like we were warming up for a completely different kind of cardio.”
Lena didn’t even blink. “Maybe I was just getting ready for game-day intensity.”
“Game day doesn’t usually involve you grabbing my hips and breathing down my neck.”
“Only because it’s not allowed.”
You looked at her, unamused. “We’re still at training, you menace.”
She just smiled, biting back another laugh, eyes sparkling. “You looked cute focused. I got distracted.”
You shook your head and took a long sip of your water, mostly so you wouldn’t smile back.
A few of the others started trickling over, Klara, Georgia, Sydney, and you straightened up quickly, slipping into your usual not-dating-my-teammate face as Klara passed by.
“You two fighting again or flirting again?” Klara asked casually, like it made a difference.
You didn’t answer, but Lena just bumped your shoulder and muttered, “Definitely flirting.”
Hi, can you please do a Claudia Pina fic with prompt 40?
Kiss That Frown
Pina x reader
~~~
Three years into dating Clàudia Pina, and I was still completely obsessed with the way her face looked when she wasn’t doing anything at all.
She had what everyone called a “resting grumpy face,” but to me, it wasn’t grumpy, it was absolutely adorable. Her mouth naturally sat in this soft little pout, the corners tilted downward like she was constantly judging everything. Even when she wasn’t mad, even when she was just chilling, scrolling through her phone or tying her cleats, she looked like someone had just told her they ran out of coffee at breakfast.
And I loved it.
Like. Genuinely. Wanted to kiss that little frown every time I saw it.
I just really, truly couldn’t help myself.
This morning was a perfect example. We had a late training, so I woke up before her. She was still curled up on her side of the bed, one leg tangled around mine, her arm flopped over my waist. Her hair was a mess and her pillow was half off the bed, but her face — her face was perfect.
That tiny pout. A peaceful, slightly furrowed brow. She looked like someone who had been told to do fitness drills on her day off. I wanted to laugh and cry and kiss her all at the same time.
I leaned in and pressed the gentlest kiss to the corner of her mouth.
She shifted a little but didn’t open her eyes.
Another kiss.
This time, she mumbled something that sounded suspiciously like my name, only slurred and sleepy.
“Good morning,” I whispered, kissing the other corner of her mouth now, trying to coax the pout into something softer.
Her eyebrows twitched, her lips forming an even deeper frown.
“Stop,” she said into the pillow, voice hoarse. “Why are you kissing my face so much.”
“Because you look so grumpy and cute,” I said, nuzzling into her shoulder. “It’s like your mouth was made to be kissed. And fixed.”
“I’m not grumpy,” she groaned.
“You look grumpy.”
“I’m sleeping.”
“Grumpy.”
She turned her face into my neck and let out the most dramatic sigh of her life, which, for Claudia, was saying something.
“I can’t believe I’ve been dating someone for three years who’s obsessed with my mouth being shaped wrong.”
I laughed into her hair. “It’s not wrong. It’s perfect. I love your face.”
“Mmhm.”
I started trailing kisses along her jaw, then back to her mouth, which, finally, twitched up slightly at the corners.
“There,” I said. “Almost a smile.”
“I hate you.”
“You love me.”
She cracked one eye open. “I tolerate you.”
“You adore me.”
“No, you adore me. You’ve been kissing my frown for ten minutes.”
“Because it’s so kissable.”
Her eye rolled dramatically, but the frown finally gave way to the tiniest real smile. And not just her lips, her whole face softened, the kind of smile that didn’t always come easy, but when it did, it was worth the wait.
“See?” I said, kissing her one more time. “You smiled. You’re in love.”
“I’m in love with the idea of going back to sleep,” she muttered, tugging me closer.
I let her pull me in, our legs tangling again as she drifted back into that half-asleep zone. Her arm rested around my back, and I buried my face in the curve of her neck.
After a few seconds of silence, her voice came out low and sleepy.
Also this one for alexia could you combine these 2 prompts
11. You send them a suggestive selfie/photo while you are all with the team and they start choking on water.
21. “Are you blushing?”
Maybe Don’t Open That Here
alexia x reader
~~~
Team dinners after a win were always a little extra. The food tasted better, the mood was lighter, and everyone somehow forgot that you all had to be up early the next day. This time, the restaurant was one of those cozy, dimly lit spots that Claudia swore by, with long tables and way too many tapas dishes covering every inch of the surface.
You were sitting a few seats away from Alexia, which felt slightly unfair, but Esmee had dragged you into a conversation, and you’d gotten stuck between her and Ingrid before you could slide into your usual spot next to your girlfriend. Across the table, Alexia was deep in conversation with Patri and Ona, occasionally glancing over at you with a soft smile or a raised eyebrow every time you caught her eye.
You’d been dating for a little over a year, and while your relationship wasn’t some big public thing, it wasn’t exactly a secret either. Everyone on the team knew — partly because you were both terrible at hiding it, and partly because Kika had walked in on you cuddling in the training recovery room at least three times.
The dinner had been going for a while now. Drinks were being refilled, conversations overlapped from every direction, and Cata was already trying to convince the waiter to let her behind the bar to make her own sangria. It was the perfect kind of harmless chaos.
And then you got bored.
Well… not bored. Just… mischievous.
You snapped a quick selfie under the table, angled just right to show the bit of skin where your top dipped low. You tilted your head, gave the softest smirk you could manage, and hit send. It wasn’t anything explicit, just suggestive enough to make her a little flustered. Maybe make her squirm in her seat.
You watched her discreetly out of the corner of your eye as she checked her phone. Her thumb hovered for a second, then she tapped the screen. The change was immediate.
Alexia blinked. Froze. Then suddenly coughed so hard she almost knocked her water glass over.
Patri jumped. “Woah, are you okay?”
Alexia waved a hand while still trying to breathe, eyes wide, face going so red it was almost comical.
“Did you just choke on water?” Jana asked, suspicious.
“She’s totally choking on water,” Mapi said, already smirking.
“I’m fine,” Alexia managed to croak, reaching for her napkin while still avoiding eye contact with literally everyone, especially you.
You tried your best to play innocent, sipping your drink with a little smile.
Then Vicky leaned over, narrowing her eyes. “Are you blushing?”
Alexia glared at her, still bright red. “No.”
Kika leaned forward with her phone. “Someone pull up the group chat. Did someone send her a thirst trap? I wanna see.”
That almost made Alexia knock over her glass again.
“Stop,” she said, trying to sound firm but coming off just this side of flustered.
Across the table, you caught her eye and gave her a tiny, innocent shrug, like you had no idea what could’ve caused that reaction. She narrowed her eyes in warning, but the smile tugging at her lips betrayed her.
Later, when you finally did end up next to her again as everyone started to leave, she leaned in close, her breath warm against your ear.
“You’re trouble,” she whispered.
“You didn’t mind the photo,” you whispered back, smug.
She rolled her eyes, but the smile on her face told you exactly what she thought. Her hand brushed against yours under the table.
“Wait until we get back to the hotel,” she said, and then stood up like she hadn’t just lit your entire brain on fire.
Hi, could you please do prompt 39 with Georgia Stanway?
Only a Little Competitive”
Georgia x reader
~~~
It was weird seeing her in that kit again.
You’d gotten so used to Georgia in red, Bayern red, all pressed and polished in the midfield beside you, doing that thing where she barely looks like she’s trying but somehow still controls the whole tempo. But today? White kit, England badge, the cocky little smirk she always got right before kickoff?
Yeah. It was a different kind of game.
You’d tried to act normal. Friendly, even. Smiled across the tunnel at her during line-up. She’d just winked. Of course she had.
And okay, maybe she did body-check you just a little harder than necessary in the first half. And maybe you returned the favor with a bit more edge than the ball actually required. But that was international football, wasn’t it?
You were professionals.
Professionals who just happened to be dating.
Professionals who had a tendency to flirt through fouls.
The game ended in a 1-1 draw, which felt fair but also annoying because she’d definitely talked a little too much during the second half, muttering sarcastic “good try”s under her breath every time you missed a pass. You would’ve smacked her with your water bottle if you didn’t kind of love it.
Later, when you finally got through press and cooldowns and the long walk back from the pitch, you texted her:
Behind the south tunnel. Five minutes. Wear neutral colors. We don’t fraternize with the enemy.
You were already there waiting when she came around the corner, hoodie up, head down, doing a terrible job of pretending like she wasn’t thrilled to see you.
“You’re late,” you said, leaning casually against the wall.
“I literally sprinted here,” she said, already reaching for you.
“Didn’t look like it when you were jogging back on that corner,” you teased, looping your arms around her neck.
“Wow. Still salty,” she murmured, grinning.
You shrugged. “I got a yellow for fouling my girlfriend. You should be embarrassed.”
“You fouled me first.”
“You flopped.”
Georgia laughed, tugging you in closer until your foreheads touched. For a second, the whole stadium buzz just faded, the noise, the bright lights, the whole post-match adrenaline still running through your veins. Gone.
“I still can’t believe we were enemies,” you said quietly, tracing your finger along the collar of her hoodie.
She raised an eyebrow. “Enemies don’t kiss behind locker rooms.”
You smiled.
“No?”
She leaned in, brushing her nose against yours. “Nope. That’s more of a… ‘forbidden lovers’ thing.”
You laughed against her lips. “So dramatic.”
“Blame yourself. You’re the one meeting me in tunnels like we’re in a spy movie.”
You didn’t answer, just kissed her. Soft, slow, the kind of kiss that made you forget what country you were supposed to be loyal to for about fifteen seconds.
When you finally pulled back, her fingers still resting on your waist, she gave you that look again, the one that made your knees feel a weak.
“Go celebrate your draw with your actual teammates,” you murmured.
“Fine,” she said with an exaggerated sigh. “But you owe me a rematch. At home.”
You smirked. “Only if I get to win.”
“Not a chance.”
And yeah, maybe you’d tackled her a little too hard today. And maybe you’d do it again in the next friendly. But as she walked away, tossing one last glance over her shoulder, you couldn’t help but smile.
Prompt 61 with Alessia Russo. Alessia watches her and readers newborn for the first time alone and reader comes home to find Alessia fast asleep with their baby on Alessia’s chest
Home Is This
Alessia x reader
Thank you for the request!! Requests are still open and I linked the prompt list at the bottom
~~~
You weren’t gone for that long. Two hours, maybe. Tops. Lunch with a friend who’d promised “just a quick catch-up” that somehow turned into dessert and a full post-baby life debrief in the corner of a café.
It was your first solo outing since having the baby. Two months old, still impossibly small, still somehow the entire center of your universe. The idea of leaving, even just for a little, had made your chest tighten more than you’d expected. But Alessia had smiled at you that morning with such easy calm, cradling the baby in her arms while you hunted for your keys, and said, “We’ll be fine. Go eat something that isn’t toast.”
So you went. And for a while, it was nice. Coffee that was still hot when you drank it. A table that didn’t have burp cloths on it. Conversations about something other than swaddles and nap windows and the emotional trauma of cluster feeding.
But then the quiet started feeling too quiet.
You didn’t rush back. Not really. But you did skip the last ten minutes of chit-chat and half-jog up the front steps with that familiar pull in your chest, that ache to be home again.
You let yourself in as quietly as possible, even though the house was already silent. No cries, no movement, just the low hum of the baby monitor resting on the hallway shelf.
Your footsteps softened instinctively as you stepped into the living room.
That’s when you saw them.
Alessia was asleep on the couch, legs stretched out, one hand curled protectively around the tiny body resting on her chest. Your baby — wrapped in that pale green blanket from your mum — lay fast asleep, cheek smushed against Alessia’s chest, one tiny hand curled near her collarbone.
They looked so peaceful. So still. Alessia’s head was tilted slightly, lips parted in sleep, hair messy from a day of soft chaos, and her other arm loosely cradled around the baby’s back like she hadn’t stopped holding them since you left.
You felt something in your chest twist a little. That kind of twist that only happens when something is too perfect, too quiet, too full.
For a moment, you didn’t move. You just stood there, soaking it in.
You took a step closer and knelt carefully by the couch, watching as your baby’s tiny fist twitched against her skin.
Alessia stirred a little then, eyes fluttering open.
“Hey,” she said, voice rough and soft, like she hadn’t meant to fall asleep at all.
“Hey,” you whispered back. “Did it go okay?”
She blinked slowly, eyes still adjusting, then glanced down at the baby still fast asleep on her chest. Her hand instinctively settled a little firmer around them.
“Yeah,” she murmured. “We did good.”
You reached out and brushed a piece of hair from her forehead. “You fell asleep.”
“I didn’t mean to. We were doing skin to skin after a diaper change and then she just… knocked out. And I guess I did too.”
You smiled, still crouched beside them. “You look good like this.”
Alessia glanced at you with a sleepy smirk. “Like what?”
“Like this. All mum-mode and snuggled up.”
She looked down again, a quiet kind of awe passing over her face, like this still hadn’t stopped feeling unreal, even after two months.
“She curled up right here,” Alessia said, patting the space above her heart. “And I think I melted a little.”
You reached out and touched your daughter’s back gently, watching her rise and fall with each tiny breath.
“I missed her,” you whispered.
Alessia looked at you, her expression softening even more — if that was possible. “She missed you too. I think she got tired of hearing just my voice. She started fussing during ‘Twinkle Twinkle’ like I was boring her.”
You laughed under your breath. “I’m sure you crushed it.”
Alessia shifted slightly and winced. “My back, however, did not.”
You stood and reached for the baby. “Here. Let me take her.”
But Alessia shook her head gently, tightening her grip just a little. “No, not yet.”
You smiled and leaned in to kiss the top of her head.
“Home looks good on you.”
She looked up at you, eyes a little glassy from sleep and something else a little deeper.
Thank you for the request!! Requests are still open and I linked the prompt list at the bottom
~~~
Away games with Barça always felt like a whirlwind. Between the training sessions, team dinners, and whatever chaos followed once we all got back to the hotel, there was never a dull moment. Tonight was no different.
Most of the team had crammed into Jana and Kika’s room. Somehow, that had become the go-to hangout spot. Blankets were tossed across the floor, someone had dragged in a tray of snacks from the hallway, and Salma had brought out a speaker that was already playing music way too loud for the hour.
I had found my place on the far bed, curled up next to Alexia, my head resting on her chest. Her arm was wrapped around me, her hand gently tracing patterns on my arm. It was loud and chaotic around us, but somehow, she made it feel calm. Safe.
The others were attempting to film a TikTok, one of those trending dances none of them had actually rehearsed but were convinced they could freestyle through. Kika was leading, obviously. Jana, Salma, Patri, and Vicky were involved too, and the rest of us were just spectating from the comfort of our own little corners.
I didn’t mean to fall asleep. But her warmth and the sound of her heartbeat had me drifting off before I could even realize it.
When I woke up, the first thing I felt was her fingers in my hair and the softest whisper in my ear.
“Bebé… wake up.”
I blinked slowly, still tucked into her side. “How long was I out?”
She smiled and brushed a piece of hair from my face. “About thirty minutes. You missed some truly questionable dancing.”
I laughed a little, still groggy. “How was your sleep?” she asked.
“Mm… it was good. Better.”
“Better how?”
I turned slightly, looking up at her with a lazy smile. “Better because you’re here.”
That earned me one of her softer looks, the kind that always made my heart do stupid things. She leaned in and kissed me, just once. Then again. And again. It was slow and easy, the kind of kiss that makes everything around you disappear. Her hand slid to my cheek, and I forgot there was even a room full of people around us.
“Oi! This is a PG-13 room!” someone yelled, probably Claudia, but no one actually looked back. They were too busy trying not to trip over each other mid-dance.
Eventually, we sat up again, and I leaned against her while she rested her hand on my knee.
At some point, we all called it a night. Everyone scattered to their rooms, the group chat still buzzing with voice notes and blurry photos from the evening. I didn’t think much of it. I figured that was that.
Until around 1:00 a.m.
The team group chat exploded.
Jana sent the first message.
“kika.”
Then Patri jumped in with “I’m going to scream.”
Mapi followed with a dozen eye emojis and a “HELLO???”
I was brushing my teeth with Alexia when my phone started buzzing nonstop. She glanced over at me.
“What happened, did someone get injured again?”
I opened the chat and saw the link. It was a TikTok — the one Kika had posted from earlier. I clicked it.
The video started off harmless. A messy dance attempt. Vicky slipping on a pillow. Salma pointing dramatically at the wrong direction mid-move. Total chaos. But then I looked closer at the background. And there we were.
Me and Alexia. Kissing.
Like full-on, hands-in-her-hair, tucked-into-each-other, heart-eyes kind of kiss. Blurry but unmistakable.
I froze.
“Oh my god.”
Alexia walked over, still drying her face with a towel. “What is it?”
I just held the phone up to her.
“Is that… us?”
I nodded slowly. “Kika posted it.”
For a moment, we both just stared. Then Alexia, of course, started laughing.
“Is it bad that I think we look kind of good in it?”
“Alexia.”
“What? It’s romantic! Everyone else is doing the worm or tripping over a sock and we’re just… having a moment.”
The messages kept pouring in.
Esmee sent, “I’ve never seen a kiss that soft. I’m crying.”
Ingrid added, “You look like a rom-com playing in the background of a horror movie.”
Claudia went for, “You were literally making out behind Vicky trying to dab.”
I covered my face with my hands. “I’m deleting my existence.”
Alexia just smiled, wrapping her arms around me from behind. “Do you want to ask her to take it down?”
I hesitated, then shook my head. “No. I mean… it’s us. We weren’t hiding.”
“Exactly,” she said, pressing a kiss to the side of my head. “Let them talk.”
And they did. The video had already passed 100,000 likes by morning.
It was chaotic. Embarrassing. Hilarious. And, honestly?
It was kind of perfect.
Alexia looked over at me after training the next day and just smirked. “Still better because I’m here?”
Summary: you want to move-in with Lena and she is oblivious.
The sound of keys jingling in the lock echoed through the hallway as you pushed your apartment door open, sighing heavily. You dropped your bag by the door, glancing around your space. It was cozy, sure, but the knowledge that your lease was expiring in a month loomed over you like a storm cloud. You’d been trying to figure out what to do for weeks now. Renewing the lease felt like a safe but lackluster option, especially when the alternative you dreamed of, moving in with Lena Oberdorf, was just out of reach.
Lena had been your girlfriend for eight months, and you couldn’t imagine life without her. She was funny, affectionate, and brought a kind of light to your days that you hadn’t even realized you were missing. The two of you spent most of your time together anyway, you at her place or her at yours, but the idea of making it official, of sharing a home, was something you desperately wanted. The problem? Lena didn’t seem to realize.
You’d dropped subtle hints over the past few weeks. Compliments about how spacious and nice her apartment was. Comments about how much you loved spending time there. Little jokes about how much easier it would be if you didn’t have to keep packing an overnight bag. But Lena, oblivious as ever, hadn’t caught on. Instead, she’d nod along or smile, completely missing the point. You didn’t want to invite yourself into her space or make her feel rushed, but you were starting to wonder if she even wanted to take that step.
Tonight was a team dinner at Lena’s place, something she’d insisted on hosting. You arrived early to help her set up, carrying a bag of drinks and snacks. She greeted you at the door with her usual goofy smile, pulling you into a quick kiss before taking the bag from your hands.
“Thanks for bringing these,” Lena said, setting them on the counter. “I can’t believe I forgot to buy drinks.”
“That’s what I’m here for,” you teased, giving her a playful nudge. You glanced around the apartment, taking in the warm lighting, the comfy furniture, the photos of friends and family scattered on the walls. It already felt like home to you, you just wished it could be official.
Lena grabbed your hand, pulling you toward the kitchen. “Come on, you can help me set up the food. Lea’s bringing dessert, and Georgia’s in charge of the playlist, so it’ll either be amazing or terrible.”
You laughed, falling into the familiar rhythm of working alongside her. It was easy, natural, the way you moved around each other in the kitchen. But as the evening went on and the team started arriving, the conversation turned to housing, and your anxiety about your lease bubbled to the surface again.
“I’m thinking about moving,” you mentioned casually during dinner, hoping Lena would pick up on it.
“Really?” Georgia asked, raising an eyebrow. “Where to?”
You hesitated, glancing at Lena, who was busy chatting with Tuva and didn’t seem to be paying attention. “I… haven’t decided yet. Still figuring it out.”
“You should move closer to me,” Georgia said with a grin. “Then we can carpool to training.”
You laughed, nodding along, but your mind was elsewhere. If Lena had heard your comment, she didn’t show it. Frustration prickled at you, but you pushed it down, not wanting to make a scene.
Later that night, after everyone had left, you lingered in Lena’s apartment, helping her clean up. She was humming to herself, stacking plates in the sink, and you couldn’t help but smile at how effortlessly beautiful she looked. You wanted this, to come home to her every day, to share your mornings and nights, to build a life together. But how could you make that happen if she didn’t even realize you wanted it?
“Your place is perfect for hosting,” you said, trying one more time to steer the conversation. “It’s so spacious and cozy.”
Lena shrugged, flashing you a smile. “Yeah, I got lucky finding it.”
And that was it. No follow-up, no acknowledgment of the deeper meaning behind your words. You sighed inwardly, giving up for the night.
A few days later, at training, you were chatting with Georgia and Magda about an upcoming match when Lea sauntered over to Lena, who was sitting on the bench tying her boots. Lea plopped down beside her, nudging her playfully.
Lena sighed, running a hand through her hair. “It’s nothing.”
“Doesn’t look like nothing,” Lea pressed. “Come on, spill.”
Lena hesitated, glancing around to make sure no one was listening. “It’s just… Y/N mentioned something about moving the other day, and now I can’t stop thinking about it. What if she’s planning to move farther away? What if she doesn’t want to be around me as much anymore?”
Lea stared at her for a moment before bursting into laughter. “Oh my God, Lena, you’re hopeless.”
“What?” Lena asked, frowning.
“She’s not planning to move away from you, you idiot. She’s been dropping hints for weeks that she wants to move in with you!” Lea said, shaking her head in disbelief.
Lena’s eyes widened. “Wait, what? She has?”
“Yes! How have you not noticed?” Lea asked, exasperated. “She’s probably waiting for you to ask her. Do you want her to move in or not?”
“Of course I do,” Lena said immediately. “That would be amazing. I just… I didn’t realize she wanted it too.”
“Well, now you know,” Lea said, standing up and grabbing Lena’s arm. “Go talk to her. Right now.”
“What? Now?” Lena protested, but Lea was already dragging her across the room.
You looked up from your conversation with Georgia and Magda, surprised to see Lea practically shoving Lena toward you. Lena stumbled to a stop in front of you, her face flushed and her hands fidgeting nervously.
“Uh, hey,” Lena said, scratching the back of her neck.
“Hey,” you said, raising an eyebrow. “Everything okay?”
Lena glanced back at Lea, who gave her an encouraging thumbs-up, then turned back to you. “Can I talk to you for a sec? Alone?”
You nodded, curious, and followed her to a quieter corner of the training ground. “What’s up?” you asked.
Lena took a deep breath, her eyes meeting yours. “I, uh… I just found out that you’ve been hinting about wanting to move in with me. And I feel like an idiot for not realizing it sooner. So, I guess what I’m trying to say is… will you?”
Your heart skipped a beat, a wide smile spreading across your face. “Are you serious?”
“Completely,” Lena said, her nervousness melting away as she saw your reaction. “I’d love for you to move in. It makes perfect sense, and honestly, I’ve wanted it for a while now. I just didn’t know if you were ready.”
You laughed, stepping closer and wrapping your arms around her. “I’ve been ready for weeks. I just didn’t want to rush you.”
“You could never rush me,” Lena said, leaning down to kiss you softly. “I want this—us—more than anything.”
From across the field, Lea let out a loud cheer, and the rest of the team started clapping and whistling. You pulled back, laughing as Lena groaned and buried her face in your shoulder.
“You realize we’re never going to hear the end of this, right?” Lena muttered.
“Worth it,” you said, grinning as you kissed her again.
2. You are seen making out in the back of a teammates tiktok and no one noticed before posting it.
3. Taking care of them when they get drunk/ they are a clingy drunk.
4. You support them in the stands at an international game and lean over the rail to kiss them after the game.
5. You pretend to forget your anniversary in order to surprise them.
6. You fall asleep in their arms during team movie night
7. They carry you to bed after you fall asleep on the couch.
8. Your first kiss keeps getting interrupted
9. You accidentally call them babe without realizing.
10. You leave a lingering kiss on their cheek next to their mouth and they can't stop thinking about it (or vice versa)
11. You send them a suggestive selfie/photo while you are all with the team and they start choking on water.
12. You realize you want to marry them
13. They realize you walk home and offer to drive you home when its raining.
14. You are grumpy to everyone except them.
15. You’re caught under mistletoe with them at a holiday party.
17. They brush their fingers along your thigh during a team meeting.
18. You get a tattoo for them
19. You trip over them during practice
20. You pick your girlfriend up effortlessly and they almost drool.
62. They wear your boxers around the house and it drives you crazy.
63. You tell them you are pregnant with another baby
Dialogue:
21. “Are you blushing?”
22. "There's only one bed." "Well, I'm not sleeping on the floor so I guess we will have to share then."
23. "Oh my god, what is wrong with you."
24. "Awe, thank you baby."
25. “You always stretch like that when you know I’m watching.”
“And you always watch.”
26. "You're drunk, go home."
27. “Your hands are all over me during drills.”
“Blame muscle memory.”
“Mine or yours?”
28. "Oh my god, you're smiling."
29. "God, you are so fucking hot sometimes."
30. "Hey, that was only three kisses, I need at least five before I can get out of bed."
31. "I can't forgive you."
32. "This kid is definitely yours"
33. "Let’s have a baby."
34. "God, I missed being in your arms."
35. "Stop staring at my hand veins."
36. "If you don't stop being annoying I will file for divorce"
37. "I am not being dramatic."
38. "Stop, you're sweaty and gross"
39. "I still can't believe we were enemies." "Enemies don't kiss behind locker rooms."
40. " I love when you have your cute little grumpy face."
41. “People fall out of love. It happens.”
42. “Just let me hold you for a minute.”
43. "What if someone sees us."
44. “Don’t say that to me. That’s not fair.”
45. “C’mere. You can sit in my lap until I’m done working.”
46. “How was your sleep?” “Mm.. It was good. Better.” “Better how?” “Better because you’re here.”
47. “I deserve better than whatever you’re giving me.”
48. “Can I sit on your lap?”
50. “Is this goodbye?”
Kid Fic Prompts:
51. Your child kicks a soccer ball for the first time, and your girlfriend/wife can't contain her excitement.
52. One of your teammates teaches your kid a bad word and your kid won't stop saying it.
53. Your teammates make fun of your wife for being so much calmer and nurturing since becoming a mom.
54. Your child has a nightmare and the three of you cuddle in the "big bed"
55. Kid: “Why do you and mom always smile at each other like that?”
Partner: laughing “Because we love each other very much.”
You: “And we love you too, sweetie.”
56. You catch your girlfriend/wife practicing soccer drills in the yard with your child while you're making dinner.
57. You bring your baby/kid on the team bus for the first time
58. You: “Do you want to go to the zoo today?”
Kid: “Yes! But I want to see the lions first. And can we bring snacks?”
Wife/ girlfriend: grinning “Snacks are always a yes.”
59. You and your wife are at home watching a game together when your baby giggles at the screen, clearly recognizing your wife.
60. Your child asks your girlfriend to read them a bedtime story, and you can’t help but feel grateful for how they’ve bonded.
61. Your girlfriend was watching your baby/toddler and you come home to find them asleep together on the couch
~~~
Buy me a coffee here. I am an extremely broke college student and literally anything helps.
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