Summary: You get sick during camp and try to hide it. But luckily your teammates are there to catch you.
Warnings: sick teenager
Masterlist
The morning air at St. George’s Park was cool and crisp. It was fall and flu season was definitely around the corner. So the cold air wasn't making it easier to stay healthy. It was the kind that carried the faint smell of wet grass and early dew. You’d woken up feeling heavy. Your throat was scratchy and your body was aching. But the worst was a dull headache pressing behind your eyes. But the thought of missing a training session with the Lionesses felt unthinkable. You were still young, one of the newer faces at camp and every session felt like a chance to prove that you truly belonged here, among players you’d admired for years.
You tried to ignore the fog creeping through your body as you jogged onto the pitch. But subconsciously you were pulling your hoodie tighter around you. Grace jogged alongside, bumping your shoulder playfully. “Oi, where’s my partner in crime’s energy gone? You’re meant to be the chaotic half of this duo.” She teased and her grin was as bright as ever.
You laughed weakly. “Maybe I’m just saving it for later.”
“Sure, sure.” She said with a smirk, though her eyes flickered with quiet concern. “You better not be getting sick on me.”
Warm-up started like always, the usual energy bouncing through the squad. Georgia and Ella were already in competition over who could nutmeg the other first, while Lucy was shouting encouragement from the back. The Arsenal girls, Leah, Beth, Alessia and Lotte, all moved with that steady rhythm that came from years of chemistry on and off the pitch. You were an Arsenal girl too technically but you still were working on that confidence the older players had. After all, you were only 16 years old.
And today it all felt impossible even as you did your best to keep up, but every breath felt like fire in your chest. The world tilted slightly when you tried to sprint, your vision swimming. Leah’s sharp voice cut through the fog “Hey, Y/N. You okay?” But before you could answer, your knees gave out. The grass came up fast, and then everything went black.
When you woke, the world felt too bright. The room smelled faintly of disinfectant and freshly brewed tea. There was a steady hum of voices surrounding you. You blinked confused as your vision slowly cleared. It took a few seconds for you to realize you were lying on a physio bed wrapped in a thick blanket. Someone was holding your hand.
“Hey, hey.” Grace’s voice said softly. Her face came into focus, worry etched between her brows. “Welcome back, sleepyhead.”
You groaned. Your heart was throbbing and your throat felt so raw. “What happened?”
Beth appeared beside her, a mug in hand, her blonde hair tied up messily. “You fainted, sweetheart.” She said, voice firm but kind. “Gave us all a fright."
“She didn’t eat much this morning.” Leah said from the corner, arms folded but expression full of worry. Like she's a doctor running diagnostics and not your captain/vice-captain on both teams. “And she’s clearly running a fever.”
“I told you she looked off.” Grace muttered, brushing hair off your forehead. “Should’ve made you stay in bed, kiddo.” Ever since you joined the lionesses you and Grace had been attached to Grace's hip, she was basically your big sister at national camps.
You tried to protest, but a coughing fit cut you off. Alessia was at your side in an instant, handing you a bottle of water. “Slowly.” She murmured. “You don’t have to talk. Just take a few sips.”
Lotte arrived next, armed with more blankets and what looked like a giant hoodie, probably Lucy's. Everyone knows you loved stealing Lucy's hoodies because they're so big on you and the older woman was super fun to be around. “You’re staying put.” She said, layering the blankets over you like a fortress. “No negotiations.”
You gave her a faint smile. “Thanks, Mum.”
“Don’t call me Mum.” She said, but she was smiling too.
As the day went on, your room slowly filled with Lionesses. Lucy and Keira brought soup and a stack of tissues. And Lucy actually joked about you wearing her hoodie but then just made sure to adjust the hoodie so it felt cozier for you. Georgia and Ella came armed with snacks and bad jokes. “We’re basically doctors.” Ella declared proudly, placing a chocolate bar on your bedside table.
“Doctors don’t eat all the snacks before they give them to the patient.” Georgia pointed out, but just shrugged and plopped down on the bed next to yours.
“I’m just testing them for poison.” Ella replied jokingly. “It’s for safety.”
Even feeling feverish and heavy-eyed, you couldn’t help but laugh. Grace beamed at the sound and snuggled you closer.
Eventually, after you had your fill of soup and medicine, the group began to drift back to their rooms. Everyone except Grace. She refused to leave your side, snuggled on the side of your bed with her legs entangled with yours. Like a protective big sister.
“Go rest, Gracie.” Leah told her gently from the doorway. “She needs quiet.”
Grace crossed her arms stubbornly. “I am resting. Right here. With my sick baby.”
Beth snorted. “Sick baby?”
Grace shrugged. “She is! Look at her, all bundled up. I’m staying.”
“Grace…” Leah tried again, but Grace was already climbing under the blanket beside you and you opened up a sleepy eye.
You tried to mumble something like ‘I don’t want to get you sick’, but Grace just shushed you and wrapped an arm around your shoulders. “Too late. I’m immune to your germs. Plus, I’m better at keeping you warm than all these blankets put together. I am like a human radiator and you need hugs to feel better.”
There were a few good-natured groans around the room, but no one tried to stop her again. Leah sighed, but the fond smile she gave the two of you said enough.
By evening, the room had turned into some kind of a cozy slumber party. Lotte was reading random trivia from her phone. Lucy and Georgia were arguing about who made the better tea. Beth was gently braiding your hair while Grace hummed softly, her head resting on your shoulder. She was very insistent to be your cuddle buddy through your sickness.
When Lucy looked around at the scene, she huffed a laugh. “We’re supposed to be elite athletes.” She muttered. “But look at us. One sick teenager and we turn into a group of mother hens.”
The room erupted in laughter. Even Leah cracked a smile. Because it was true, even at Arsenal she and the others were very mothering when it came to you. You just were the baby they all adored.
“Speak for yourself.” Georgia said. “I’m the cool aunt. No hen energy here.”
Your laughter came out weak but genuine. Every ache in your body was still there, but it didn’t feel so bad anymore. Not with everyone around you. Just being there and fussing, teasing each other and caring so much. You weren’t just a kid trying to prove yourself. You were part of the Lionesses team and they'd keep you safe while you were here.
Leah leaned over, brushing a stray strand of hair from your forehead. “Next time you don’t feel right, you tell us straight away, okay? You don’t have to tough it out alone.”
Summary: Reader is a kid from a bad home life. She gets neglected and abused. The team just noticed that she has trust issues and doesn't open up. Leah being the good cap she is, takes her under her wing.
Warnings: mentions of abuse, neglect and bad childhood. Anxiety and disassociation. Mentions of scars and bruises.
Masterlist
Part 2 is out: The ones who stay
You arrived at the last camp before the Euros late. What had made you late? Exam season… School was your biggest enemy as a young football player. At only 16 you were definitely a lot younger than most women that had been called up, especially so short before the 2025 Euros. The call up had confused you, your trainer and your social worker. But luckily she had signed papers and you had been allowed to go.
The coaches had asked if you could travel alone and you just said yes. So you had spent the last eight hours on trains and buses… the closest bus station was still 1.3 miles away from the hotel. So you had just quietly shouldered your backpack, grabbed your suitcase and walked 30 minutes alongside the road. The weather was shit, like always, it wasn't a really bad rain, more like a slight drizzle that was just hard enough to get you completely wet by the time you arrived at the entrance to the hotel.
The staff member at the door didn't want to let you in at first but after you quietly said your name he did… Now you stood near the entrance in the lobby. Wet, cold and utterly alone. This hotel was crazy luxurious. It was a Hilton after all, but still. You were used to shitty, small foster homes and crazy group homes this wasn't your scene.
The hotel staff had called someone from the team's staff members. And a young woman walks to you…”God you're all wet. How did that happen?”
You shrug a tiny bit and quietly mumble. "It's okay.” And the staff member shrugs unsure, not quite sure what to say to that. So she nods and hands you a room key with the number 218 on and tells you to go to your room. You just nod a tiny bit and grab the key tightly. The woman vanished again, leaving you alone and lost once more.
Quietly and unsure on how to act in such a big and luxurious building you walk around till you find stairs, you hadn't seen the elevator or at least didn't realize it was an option. So you carried your suitcase up two flights of stairs. You're still soaking wet but you don't make a sound as you push the door to the hallway open and walk down the long hallway quietly. As you walk down the hallway quietly it's empty. 217, 218… you fumbled with the key card till you finally opened the door and slipped inside. The room was nice. Beautiful, furnished well and clean. You put your suitcase down and touched the bed unsure. It almost seemed too nice. On the table was the schedule… in 30 minutes would be a meeting. You didn't really want to go but you knew you had to. So you changed.
23 minutes later you were in front of the meeting room. Now wearing a faded band tee, loose fitting jeans and old cherry red converse that already has a few signs of tear and were a size too small.
You didn't speak when you arrived at the meeting. Not really at least. Just a quiet hi when Sarina greeted you and introduced you to the team… you listened as Sarina discussed the plans for the camp and told everyone to welcome you warmly. Then she leaves so the team can get to know you.
The first to react to you in any way was Georgia Stanway, she offered you a fish bump. You didn't really react to it, confused by the action and didn't first bump her back but you nodded a tiny bit.
“Well you've got the deer in headlights look down to pat, don't you bambi?” Ella Toone joked, most of the team cracked a smile at that and even your lips twitched a tiny bit. Unwilling but it just happened. They start conversations about training and the schedule, trying to offer you a way into the conversations… they didn't actually name you out to speak up, but they did glance your way in hopes of you speaking.
But mostly? You stayed silent.
Everyone noticed. They just didn’t know what to do with it. So they left you alone for now… most of the older players hoped it was just first day jitters, especially since you're so much younger than the rest and the younger players were just confused about how quiet you were.
Dinner comes and some of them try again.
Grace for example she sits down beside you with all her energetic way. “Hey I'm Grace. It's nice to meet you.” You glance at her nodding a bit and then quietly go back to eating. She blinks for a second. “Well… uh… are you okay?” She asks unsure and you just nod again. So she ends up talking with other players… and the other few players who had tried to talk also gave up. Alessia Russo had lasted the longest. She had talked with (at) you for close to five minutes. Just telling you about herself, her experience at camp, who to go to when you needed help… but after getting no response she ends up just telling you to eat up and tell her if you need anything, before she goes back to chatting with her friends.
It was quiet again around you. You preferred it that way. At least that's what you told yourself. Silence was safer. People can’t hurt you if they can’t reach you. That's something you had learned over the years and years of foster homes, group homes and failed adoptions. Building bonds and trust is what breaks you, more than the hits, the screams and the touches did.
You didn't notice your new captain glancing at you as you ate. She just took you in. The slightly damp hair, the faded shirt, the loose fitting pants and the worn down shoes. Either you had a very grungy style or you just had very neglectful parents that didn't buy your properly fitting clothes. Leah watched as you didn't speak, just nodding or shaking your head.
The next few days you drew more into yourself. You didn't make any effort to bond with anyone or to speak up during training. So most of them just left you alone. They spoke to you during training, to give you corrections or call out for passes… but other than that you were left alone.
Everyone did that… everyone but Leah Williamson... she didn’t leave you alone. For some reason the blonde defender, your new captain, just stuck around. She didn't smother you like some grown ups did in your past. She didn't hover around or crowd you. She didn't ask any of those stupid questions every grown up always asks.
Not once did Leah ask. “Are you okay?” “Do you want to talk about it?” or “Why are you so quiet?”... Leah just was there. She showed up quietly, in simple ways. So simple that you barely noticed it at first.
It started with breakfast. To be honest the breakfast bar was overwhelming. There were pancakes, different types of eggs, an omelette bar, fruit, Joghurts, granola, breads, dozens of cheese, meats and spreads… it was too much for you. So you mostly stuck to toast, sometimes with cheese, sometimes even choosing the cheese was overwhelming. On your third morning in camp Leah walked past you and just quietly placed a banana next to your untouched toast. You go to look up at her but she's already walking past. She had just decided for you that you needed a banana… at lunch it was a second sandwich with some cheese and salad… and at dinner a bowl of fruit salad. It was subtle and confusing. She never said anything about it, just did it. And deep down you appreciated it. It saved you from making so many decisions and she chose yummy food so it was okay. At that point you didn't know that Leah herself was a really picky eater and just chose some of her safe foods.
It happens during recovery next. A water bottle gets pushed in your hand even when you didn't grab one. At first it's just the water bottle, then on the fourth day a granola bar. Once again she doesn't say anything. She doesn't touch you. She just hands it over quietly before going back to speaking with some of her friends. But she still watches. She notices that you don't eat the chocolate bar with peanuts but that you love the one with dried berries, so she stocks up on those. You always grab the red Gatorade, never the blue one…
And she still noticed that none of your clothes fit correctly. She was glad you had gotten a training kit from the staff so at least your clothes during training were good. But your clothes on your off time. They didn't fit and looked like they're holding by the last thread… even your cleats looked two sizes too small. But when Lucy had noticed and went to check by touching your leg you had flinched away. After that not one of them dared to bring it up or touch you again.
But Leah still stayed. At team meetings she always made you sit beside her, which apparently used to be Keira's chair, but one glare from Leah had just the redhead up and she moved to sit next to Georgia. She knew you didn't like to be touched or when someone moved too fast. So she didn't. Not once did her knees brush against yours. She just sat there, her back straight and leading the meeting. Like she was a steadfast presence nobody could away and nothing could shake. And admittedly you liked it. It felt like her presence wrapped itself around you like a warm blanket.
And not once did she try to touch you.
Not once.
Not until you let her.
It was on your eighth day in camp. It had rained the entire day, heavy pounding rain that sounded like footsteps against the windows. Just as heavy as the sound of the rain settled over the entire compound. A heavy feeling had settled over you. So you ran and hid like you always had done.
You weren't in your room for lights-out. Nobody noticed it since usually they didn't check every single room, because everyone here but you was grown ups… but even when no one else noticed you had vanished…
Leah Did.
She didn't alarm anyone and just quietly walked around. She checked the cafeteria, the game room, the diary room and the pitch. She just walked around quietly looking for you in all the hiding spaces she can find. The last room she cheeks is the physio room.
That's where she found you, curled up behind a stack of folded towels. Knees tucked to your
Chest, sleeves pulled over your hands, eyes wide and unfocussed. You were completely out of it, disassociated.
Leah didn't say anything. She didn't gasp, try to touch you or even try to coax you to get up and back to the hotel room. She just sat down beside you, back pressed to the cool cabinet, legs stretched out in front of her. “I’m just going to stay here.” She said quietly. Her voice was soft and gentle. “Until you feel safe.
And she did.
Minutes passed. Then maybe an hour. You didn’t know. You just knew that for the first time in forever, someone was there, and they weren’t *asking* for anything. Not answers. Not apologies. Not explanations. She just sat there in silence with you as you tried to come back to yourself. As you tried to feel real again.
She didn't offer words of comfort or touch. Or anything that you had ever been offered by any of the adults before. They usually just tried to throw a blanket at you or fix it with some words but it never fixed anything. But Leah didn't do that. She didn't offer any of those things.
Just presence.
And when your breath eventually evened out and the buzzing behind your eyes faded, she was still there. You moved your head a tiny bit to look at your captain. She was just sitting there quietly before suddenly.
“You don’t have to talk,” she said. “Not until you’re ready.”
You didn’t answer at that point, but you looked at her again and then you shifted, just a tiny bit. Till your shoulders touched.
Leah didn’t move away.
The next morning when she once again put down an apple next to your breakfast she also slipped you a note. You open it and quietly read it. “You were brave last night. I'm so proud of you. - L.”
A tiny smile tugs at your lips as you glance on her to where Leah sits with Keira Walsh and co. The note skipped into your pocket and you kept it there for the rest of the day before putting it into a book of yours that night.
The other players noticed what she was doing and slowly followed her lead. Slowly but surely one by one adjusted the way they acted around you. They didn't force you to adjust, they just adjusted the space.
Keira didn’t press when you shook your head at her card game invitation. She just nodded, slid the deck back into the box, and made sure there was always an empty seat at her table the next day.
Hemp left you notes on your water bottles, scrawled in smudged marker, always in capital letters like she was shouting kindness at you:
"YOU'RE A BALLER. JUST SAYING."
"DRINK THIS OR I’LL HUNT YOU DOWN (with love)."
You never caught her leaving them. But you always smiled when you found them and you are pretty sure she knew that…
Alessia offered you her hoodie after a rainy training session, wrapping it around your shoulders like muscle memory. It smelled like fabric softener and something sweet. She never asked for it back and when you offered it back after it had been washed she just shook her head and pulled it over your head. Saying quietly ‘It’ll keep you cozy and warm during the cold days. Better than that old jacket of yours.’ and so you kept her hoodie.
Tooney plopped a sticker book in your lap during downtime and said. “For emergencies.” You flipped through it hesitantly, unsure of the joke, until she peeled off a glittery giraffe and stuck it to your forearm with a grin wide enough to make your chest ache. You didn't remove it from your arm. Instead you wore it like a temporary tattoo for the rest of the day.
Lucy one afternoon sat down and quietly helped with your Spanish homework. She didn't make you read out loud, just let you point to the hard parts and she'd explain them. Same with Math… and after that she just spends an hour every single day helping you with your schoolwork.
No one asked you to speak.
No one asked where you came from or why your hands shook when the volume got too loud. No one demanded you explain the scars no one was allowed to see, and they all worked hard to ignore them. Yet they all worried. They just wanted you safe. You were their new team baby now. Their little lion cub.
And it worked. Impossibly slow and tentatively you found yourself reaching back. A shy nod at breakfast when someone greeted you. A small thank you when someone hands you something or tells you that you'd done good.
And stickers… those stickers Tooney gave you became your communication. At first they only found them on papers you left them, but then you also placed them on their water bottles, phone chargers and similar… it was like you wanted to share a tiny bit of you with them. But none of them minded. Even if their water bottles were now covered in glittery stickers and animals. There were a lot of Tiny things.
But in a life you had built on silence and loneliness, they meant everything.
You ended up being called up to the official Euros squad. It had been a big surprise for you and everyone else, but you were relieved. It meant weeks away from your shitty new foster home. Weeks away from an unstable and dangerous home… weeks with Leah and the other girls who seemed so safe and warm. You felt happy at the thought of going to the Euros with them.
The first few weeks went okay. Similar to how the last few weeks at the last camp went. You were quiet but at least reacted, sometimes you'd whisper an answer. Keira also finally convinced you to play a card game with her… It was fun, you didn't get the rules at first, but Lucy took a seat beside and quietly helped you. You glanced at the older defender and she just smiled encouragingly when you showed her a good card. So far you hadn't gotten any game time during the games tho, you hadn't expected anything else to be honest, after all you're 16.
When the quarterfinal against Sweden came it was a rough game. They were up by 2 in the first half, before luckily Lucy and Michelle were able to equalize in the second half… So you went into extended time. And suddenly Sarina called your name from the bench with only the second half of extended time left, your entire body locked. Your eyes went wide and you were still. Luckily it was the short 5 minute break for drinks.
You weren’t ready.
You weren’t.
Not for the crowd. The pressure. The weight of over 22.000 eyes on you
And Leah saw it, of course she did. She was already at your side before you stood. Gently guiding you to the touchline, just far enough that no one else could hear. You stare up at the older defender as she guides you through warm ups and pulls the jacket off of you.
“You’re safe,” she said, her hands hovering near your shoulders. “You’re not alone. Just play. We’ve got you.”
You looked at her. She looked so safe and sure of your abilities. You let her touch your face, just for a second, almost waiting for the panic to set in. But it didn't come.
There was no panic. No fear.
It was just warmth and attention.
And when she smiled encouragingly to tell you that you've got this, you nodded.
Then the game continued and you were subbed for Lucy who offered you a hug as you ran in, which surprisingly for everyone you took.
The game continued in a blur. You defended your goal like a brick wall. Stepping into the big shoes Lucy had left for you to fill when you were subbed for her. You locked down on your job and slid left and right to keep your goal safe. Sometimes you also sprinted more to the front passing Alessia, Chloe and Michelle balls in the hopes they'd score… they didn't so far. You didn't score again. So after the 15 minutes you played it went into a penalty shootout. You could feel the dread set in. So far you did play well. But this was your first cap for the England senior team and it would now go into a penalty shootout. In the knockout round of the Euros… and you were only 16.
The shootout started. One by one they stepped up. After 5 shoots it still was 2:2…. So it continued. Grace Clinton didn't manage to get one in, and the next Swede also didn't… you look around sure. Did you have to take the next one?
When nobody stepped up immediately you shuffled forward unsure before you forced yourself to take a deep breath. The Swedish keeper smirks a bit, like she thinks a kid your age can't get one past her and for some reason it makes you damn mad. You put the ball down and suddenly you are hyper focused. You get into position and just shoot. The ball flies incredibly fast and curls beautifully into the net. You put the team up 3:2… if the next Swedish player didn't get one in you'd be through. You stumble back to my team wide-eyed.
For the first time you let Grace hug you to her side, the older girl was a hugger, she always hugged everyone. And you were so shell shocked that you had managed to score on the Swedish keeper that you didn't even panic….
The Swedish girl Smilla Holmberg steps up. She's 18.. and she doesn't score on Hannah… she hits the post. Which leads to the Lionesses getting into the semifinals and then being knocked out of the game.
The game ended in a blur. You had scored. You did your job. And when the final whistle blew and the girls cheered, you stood off to the side, uncertain and still in shock. Sweet Caroline was playing and you saw your new friends celebrating. Grace was running around excitedly… while the Swedish players were crying.
You took a deep breath and walked up to one of the Swedish players that you had always admired, Magda Eriksson. “Pardon?” You say shyly and unsure. Was it rude to approach her now? But she turned around and her eyes softened a bit as she realized it was the new wonder kid from England and not some grown up. You continue your voice very shaky. “Can we switch shirts, maybe? If you want… I'd understand if you don't… I just really admire your way to play… it's the reason why I play in defense.” You whisper and even though she looked so upset and was still crying a bit from the loss the woman nodded and you exchanged shirts. She didn't say anything but you also didn't say anything more and just shyly left.
By this time Leah jogged over to you. She didn’t hug you, still knew better than that. Even if she had seen how Grace hugged you after your goal, she was pretty sure that you were in shock at that moment, so she wasn't gonna risk it. But she held her hand out, palm up, waiting. And then you took it. She quietly led you back into the locker room where the others were celebrating their victory in the quarter finals. In the quiet chaos of the locker room, after the laughter faded and your head stopped spinning, you turned to her, voice cracked and quiet.
“Leah?” You whispered and your captain looked at you. It was the first time you said her name and she smiled adoringly.
“Yes babygirl?” She asked gently with one of the many nicknames the team had dubbed you over the last few weeks. You'd probably never hear your real name again if these women had a word in it.
Leah saw something flash in your eyes. A whisper of hope… but also fear.
“You won't send me away again?” You whispered quietly. But Leah understood so did the other girls who had noticed something significant was going on and quieted down. Lauren James had even turned the music off so you didn't have to speak so loud.
Leah met your eyes. Her voice was steady and kind and real.
“Never, you're a lioness baby. A small one that still needs to grow into it but you're one of us.”
You didn't look around the room but you knew that all the women in this room were nodding or similar. Not one of them was ready to ever give you up. You had found your place. In between soccer balls, too small cleats and the crazy of 23 women living in 12 hotel rooms…. But this was safe and warm and it was yours.
Summary: You're a young player for Arsenal and really close to Katie McCabe. But today? Today you're lining up with the lionesses against the Irish team. Till suddenly you collapse on the pitch.
Warnings: fainting, iron deficiency, teen ignoring her health. Mentions of death/people fainting on pitch.
Masterlist
The air was heavy in the stadium, humid and buzzing with the roar of two nations. Every touch, every tackle, every pass echoed louder than usual. You’d been running on fumes since the whistle blew, but no one could know. Not your coaches, not your teammates. Not when you’d worked your whole life for this stage.
At 16 you were the youngest lioness playing in this world cup group stage. You also played for Arsenal and you loved it. You loved every second on the pitch usually. But today everything was off.
The pounding in your skull had started when you woke up that morning. You’d brushed it off as nerves, maybe dehydration. But now, with each passing minute, the ache spread behind your eyes, the pitch started shimmering at the edges like a mirage and you could only make out the fuzzy edges around you.
“Come on, Y/n, press!” Leah’s voice rang out. Your captain’s command was sharp and encouraging. So you forced your legs to move, pushing up the pitch. Your lungs burned, every step heavier than the last, but you kept going. ‘Don’t show weakness. Not here. Not now.’
The ball switched sides. Ireland surged forward and your Arsenal teammate Katie McCabe was at the heart of it. Her green shirt blurred past you as she whipped a cross. You chased back. But your vision started tunneling, the cheers of the crowd muffled like they were underwater.
Then, suddenly, your legs betrayed you. The ground tilted. A wave of nausea surged. Black spots clouding your sight. You staggered once, twice… and then collapsed.
A hush cut through the stadium like a blade.
Katie was the first to react. She didn’t even look at where the ball went. The second she saw you drop, she screamed.
“REF! STOP THE GAME! NOW!” Her voice cracked, raw with fear. You hadn't gone down in a tackle or visible injury. The last and only time she had seen that was with Frida, back then everything went well. But she knew stories. Of people having a heart attack on the pitch. She was already sprinting toward you, not even carrying that she was on the opposite team right now.
She slid to her knees beside you, hands trembling as she touched your shoulder.
“Y/n! Hey, kiddo, open your eyes, come on.” Her Irish lilt wavered, words tumbling out faster. “Please, not like this. Talk to me.”
The referee blew the whistle frantically, waving for the medics. Players froze, some with hands over their mouths, others rushing closer but stopping short.
Leah was next, her boots pounding across the turf. Her face was pale, terror stark in her eyes as she dropped beside Katie.
“Is she breathing?” Leah’s voice wavered and she reached for your wrist, fumbling for a pulse. Relief flickered when she found it. “She’s here, she’s here… just out.”
Katie swore under her breath, brushing the damp hair from your forehead. “She’s burning up, Leah. She’s been off all game… she was so slow that's not like her.” Her voice broke. She shook your hand gently, desperate to anchor you. “Wake up, Y/n, you’re tougher than this.”
Leah placed a steadying hand on Katie’s shoulder. Her voice was calm but strained, the way only a captain could manage under pressure. Back at Arsenal the Irish player was one of your best friends. Leah often regretted letting you two room together on your first camp, but now it was done and she couldn't change it. You adored Katie and Katie had adopted you as a younger sister. “The medics are coming. Stay with her. Talk to her.” She told Katie.
Leah’s eyes darted to the England bench and she caught Sarina Wiegman’s gaze. A silent exchange passed between them. ‘Who goes with her?’ Sarina’s jaw tightened, then she gave a short, firm nod toward the bench, almost all bench players were up and gathered near the pitch line worriedly.
“Lotte!” Leah barked.
Lotte Wubben-Moy was already up, peeling off her bib, sprinting toward the scene. Her face was a mask of determination, but the fear in her eyes was clear. She had played earlier but got subbed off after half time. So there was no way she could come back on and be needed later.
The medics lifted you onto the stretcher with practiced hands. Katie leaned down, pressing your hand briefly between hers. “You’ll be alright, little one. You hear me? You’ll be alright.” Then, because she had no choice. She was forced to step back. Even though her chest was still heaving and she looked so worried. She had to finish this game.
Leah squeezed your arm firmly as they began to carry you away. “We’ve got you. You’re not alone.” Then she looked at Lotte, her voice low, commanding. “Go with her. Don’t leave her side.”
“I won’t.” Lotte promised, already falling into step with the stretcher team, her long strides keeping pace.
Katie stayed rooted to the grass. Her hands balled at her sides, watching helplessly as you were carried away. Leah turned back toward the rest of the England players, clapping her hands sharply. Her voice was steady but weighted with emotion. “Heads up! She’ll be okay. We play for her now.”
Katie had to walk back to the Ireland squad while the worry was eating her alive. She just could hope you'd be okay and that Leah would let her come along to see you.
The crowd began to clap, a ripple of noise swelling as you disappeared into the tunnel. But on the pitch, the atmosphere was heavy, every player rattled.
The sterile white walls of the medical room hummed with quiet. The match had ended hours ago, but for you time felt stuck. You sat propped up in the hospital bed, IV line trailing from your arm, head heavy against the pillow. Leah was perched on the chair closest to you. She was curled into a ball of anxiety and nerves, watching every movement like a hawk. Lotte sat on your other side, her leg bouncing restlessly. Her fingers tugging at the hem of her hoodie. Katie had insisted on coming after the match. Even though Ireland had lost and the other girls of the squad wanted to spend time together. She couldn't stand the thought of not checking up on you. She leaned against the wall, her arms folded, but her eyes softer than usual as they stayed fixed on you.
The doctor returned with a folder tucked under his arm, his expression calm but serious. He glanced at the three players gathered around you before addressing you directly.
“Alright, Y/n. We’ve got the results of your bloodwork.” He paused and made sure you were listening, before continuing. “You have what we call an iron deficiency anemia. Essentially, your body doesn’t have enough iron to make the red blood cells that carry oxygen around. That explains the fatigue, the dizziness, the headaches and why you collapsed today.”
Your eyes widened, confusion flooding in. “I… I didn’t even know.” You whispered. “I thought I was just tired. Or nerves.”
The doctor nodded gently. “It’s common for young athletes, especially females. But left untreated, it can make you very unwell. The good news is, now we know. And it’s very manageable. Supplements, diet changes, monitoring. You’ll recover. For now you'll get some supplements through the IV and if all goes well you can go back to the hotel tomorrow. You'll still need a few days but you should feel better quickly.”
Silence stretched in the room before Lotte finally spoke, her voice quiet but firm. “That’s why you’ve been dragging in training. I thought maybe you were just adjusting, but…” She trailed off, her jaw tightening as she looked at you. “You should’ve told us how bad you felt.”
You lowered your gaze, guilt pressing heavy on your chest. “I didn’t want to let anyone down. Not Sarina, not the team. Not you guys.”
Leah leaned forward, her voice steady but gentle. Just like when she was in captain mode. “Hey. Look at me.” When your eyes met hers, there was no anger, only protectiveness and worry. “You could never let us down. Football’s important, but your health comes first. Always.”
Katie pushed off the wall and walked closer. Her green eyes shining with an emotion you rarely saw from her. “She’s right. You scared the life out of us, kiddo. Out there on that pitch… I thought…” She stopped herself, exhaling shakily. “Don’t you dare put yourself at risk like that again without saying something. You’ve got too many people who care about you.”
Your throat tightened, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes. “I didn’t mean to scare anyone.”
Lotte leaned closer, her hand brushing yours lightly, grounding. “We know. But you don’t have to carry things alone. Not with us around.”
The doctor gave a reassuring smile and set a pamphlet on the table by your bed. “I’ll leave you all to talk, but we’ll start treatment immediately. You’re young, you’re strong and with proper care, you’ll bounce right back.” He gave you one last nod before stepping out.
The moment the door clicked shut, Leah reached for your hand, squeezing it firmly. “You’re going to get through this. And we’re going to be with you every step.”
Katie settled on the end of the bed, brushing her hand over your blanket-covered shin. “You’re more than a player, you know that, yeah? You’re family. Arsenal, the lionesses. We look after our own.”
For the first time since the collapse, you believed it when Leah whispered. “You’re going to be okay.”
Summary: you break down but instead of leaving they stay. Nobody had ever stayed.
Warning: mentions of abuse and neglect, anxiety, panic attacks (?)
It's also like almost 7k so yeah... Just a warning if your attention span is low.
Masterlist
Part 2 to When you're ready
After the quarterfinal you had somewhat adjusted to being at camp, to living among these girls, breathing the same air, wearing the same crest. But that didn’t mean it had become easy. It didn’t mean the ache had gone. Some days felt manageable, sure. But others? Others felt like you were dragging your body around, every movement a struggle just to pretend you belonged here.
The pressure wasn’t just immense, it was suffocating. You were the youngest, the rookie, the one everyone looked at with either mild curiosity or silent skepticism. Just being in the squad of 23 for the Euros should’ve been enough, should’ve made you proud. But all it did was dig the hole deeper, because now there was something to lose.
Every game came faster than the last, every training session more intense. There was barely time to breathe, to process, to recover. While the others carved out moments for laughter, for games, for coffee runs and content creation, you were buried under summer reading and late-night Zoom calls with tutors. Alone in your room, staring at highlighted textbooks that never stopped buzzing in your brain.
Some days you woke up already crying. And today was one of those days.
It was the first practice before the semi-finals and this time it wasn't just hard. You should’ve been excited. Grateful. Focused. Instead, you felt like your skin was too tight, like your body didn’t quite fit anymore. You were unraveling barely holding on by a thread. And no one could see it. Not really.
It already started with the warm-up drills. You were a fucking mess. You kept mistiming your touches on the ball. Your passes were clumsy and wide. Then during the scrimmage, you missed an open goal so badly it hit the frame and ricocheted away almost hitting Ella in the face. She gave you a small smile and laughed it off, but it felt wrong. It just made it worse. Your legs felt like dead weight, like they had been made from stone.
Sarina didn't say anything. Usually she at least gave you a nod or good job, kiddo. But today she was silent. And you felt it deep inside. A knot was forming in your stomach so tight that you barely could speak… and it made you play even worse.
You wanted to cry. Inside you were already crying. Quietly, from the inside, like someone drowning on dry land. And then during the scrimmage came the final straw.
You made a stupid, avoidable pass to Lucy. It was just too soft, too slow for football on this level, with this team. Alessia easily intercepted it. You tried to redeem yourself by sprinting to recover, but your legs betrayed you again. You collided straight into Lauren, a tangle of limbs and boots and impact. She hit the ground with a thud and you slid across the pitch, grass burning into your skin. For a moment, you stayed there. Face against the turf. Just breathing. Just existing. Just… not.
The pain wasn't bad. Bruises were expected at football on this level. But you felt humiliated. A shame settled over you, bone deep and aching… that hurt more than anything. You felt so unsure about yourself. Like you didn't even deserve to play on this level.
Your knees and arms hurt a bit and you knew you'd have some bruises, but you just rolled over and checked if anything looked worse. It didn't. You forced some shaky breaths down your lungs and pushed yourself back up… by now the ball was in the other half again. Hannah, who was the goalkeeper on your team this scrimmage, had saved the ball from Alessia and was now calling out to you.
“Ducky? Are you alright?”
Hannah’s voice was gentle, but you barely registered it. You nodded, but the gesture was hollow. She helped you up anyway. Lauren had already taken off again, back to chasing the ball like nothing had happened. Because for her, it probably hadn’t. She belonged here… and you just didn't.
You lasted 7 more minutes. Seven minutes of dragging your feet and bringing tears away without anyone noticing. Then you heard shouting. Someone yelling across the pitch. You were pretty sure it was Khiara yelling at one of the defenders on her team. The shouting was fair and not even directed at you but you just folded into yourself. Your shoulder slump and then you rush past the training staff with a quiet apology and run. Past the staff, past the concerned faces, past Sarina who called after you. “Hey! Wait—what's going on?”
You didn’t stop.
Not even for Leah, who had seen you bolt and looked torn between captaincy and instinct. She didn’t come after you, maybe she didn't want to anymore. Maybe she couldn't, you didn't really care.
You just ran down the hallway, into the locker room and gathered your things in a blur and then you were running out the back exit, towards the hotel. Away from the world.
No one tried to stop you. Or maybe they did, and you just didn’t hear them. Your ears were ringing. Your heartbeat roared like thunder in your skull. You didn’t know if you were crying or sweating or both, your vision was too blurry to tell.
You didn't even get to your room, breaking down in the stairwell that nobody but you used. And then you sobbed. Quiet, broken, aching sobs that clawed their way out of you like they’d been waiting all week.
You felt so small and so far from home. What even was home to you anyway? You didn't have a family waiting for you… you didn't have a constant home… you constantly were moved to new care homes.
God you had been so stupid for thinking you were ready. You weren't ready. You never had been ready and you probably would never be ready. You felt like a child pretending to be a Lioness. Putting on that jersey like you had done for Halloween years ago. You weren't a real lioness, you were small, weak and you definitely weren't good enough.
And they’d all see it soon. Maybe they already had seen it and hated you deep down. Maybe that's why nobody came after you.
And the worst part?
You weren't sure you wanted them to come looking for you.
Around an hour later she found you again, of course. Leah always found you.
It was like she had some sixth sense, a pull in her chest, a string tied to yours, that tugged her in your direction whenever you were close to breaking. Maybe it was intuition, or maybe it was just her heart knowing exactly where yours would fall apart. Either way, it never failed. She always found you.
She didn’t speak at first. Just stood there, motionless at the top of the stairwell, quietly watching you.
You were curled up on the landing halfway down, arms wrapped tight around your knees like you were trying to hold yourself together with force alone. Still in your training clothes, soaked through with sweat and humiliation, clinging uncomfortably to your skin. Grass stains marked your shins, one of your socks had slipped halfway down, and your laces were still tangled from where you hadn’t bothered to fix them. Your back was pressed against the cold concrete wall, as if grounding yourself in it could stop the shaking
“I’m not good enough,” you said before she could even speak. “I don’t belong here.”
You heard her sigh and then Leah sat beside you, pulling her knees up to her chest. As the two of you sat there. “You don’t get to decide that,” she said gently. “We already talked about this. You belong here and you're here for a reason.” Gently she interlaced your fingers and squeezed your hand while you shook her head.
“I didn’t even own proper boots until last year. I used to stuff newspaper in my shoes because the soles were falling out. I didn’t have anyone to take me to training. I got here by accident. And—” Your voice cracked. God, you sounded pathetic. You felt pathetic and alone. Even more so as the next sentence leaves your mouth.
“And nobody really loves me, Leah. They just want what I can do. Not who I am.”
The stairwell was silent apart from your quiet sobs and shaky breaths and the sounds you could hear from the rest of the hotel through the walls. You almost expected her to leave, to just get up like everyone always did when you ended up breaking down..
Because that’s what people did, wasn’t it? When things got too heavy. When you got too much. They left. Maybe not all at once , maybe just in tiny, slow, devastating ways.
But Leah didn’t move. Instead, you felt her shift closer. And when you finally glanced sideways through wet lashes, you saw her eyes were shining too.
Tears. Real, quiet, unspoken tears.
But then, with tears in her eyes, Leah leaned in and whispered.
“I love who you are. And you’re not here by accident. And you're very precious to us all.”
As you sat there in the hallway you broke down. You hadn't meant to say anything. Didn't mean to break down and tell her everything. God you hadn't planned to speak at all.
But the pain was too much to hold in.
You were sitting in the stairwell, the one place that felt quiet enough. Safe enough. Leah was there next to you.. She always was. She just sat there with you, knees drawn up, a bottle of water in one hand and silence in the other. But this time after her saying that she and the others adored you… something cracked.
“I’m so tired.” You whispered. Your voice broke and you are shaking a little“I’m so tired of pretending I’m okay.”
Leah looked over, gently. Not startled. Not rushing you. She didn't say anything, your hands interlaced as she stroked over the back of your hand to keep you calm and help you regulate your emotions. You stared down at your hands. Her warm hands interlaced with yours, just holding on giving enough for you to feel her warmth and attention.
“I didn’t have a real family.” You whispered quietly. “Not like the others.”
She said nothing, just let you speak.
“I have been in care since I was three. Got passed around like… like no one wanted to keep me. Some houses were okay, but most weren’t. Some of them were awful.”
You swallowed hard. The words were coming fast now, like a floodgate had opened.
“I had one placement where they locked the fridge at night. I used to steal crackers from the bin so I wouldn’t go to bed hungry. It was awful. One time they didn't feed me for two days as a punishment.”
Leah's eyes filled with heartbreak, but she didn’t interrupt. She just lets you talk, watches as you unravel and cry. She didn't stop you, didn't try to hold your emotions back. She just watched you unravel ready to catch you once you're done.
“There was another house where I had to sleep on a couch for months. They said the foster kid didn’t need a room. I didn’t even have a pillow. That's actually super illegal but I was too scared to tell anyone. Cause at least I had heat and three good meals.” Your voice wobbled, a whisper.
“They forgot my birthday. Every year. Every single one. Same with Christmas.” You choke out. Tears burned hot in your eyes, but you didn’t stop as they rolled down your cheeks. You didn't care anymore. You didn't care to cry in front of Leah. You pulled your hand from her to wipe your tears away as you silently cried.
“They told me I was difficult. That I was ungrateful. That I was lucky to have food at all, so I shouldn’t ask for more. So I stopped asking. For anything. I just… stayed quiet.”
Leah’s hand reached out, palm open, waiting. You slipped your fingers into hers like a child learning how to trust again. She pulled you to her side and you leaned against her. Like she was the only thing holding you together.
“And now I’m here, and everyone’s so nice, and it feels fake sometimes because I don’t know how to accept it.” You choked. “Like, what if they’re only being kind because I’m good at football? What if I mess up and they stop?” Your voice cracked into a sob.
“What if I ruin it all, Leah? What if this is my only chance and I mess it up like everything else? What if none of you like me anymore after I mess everything up?”
Leah squeezed your hand so gently, it felt like a promise. She held it right and you against her shoulder like she wanted to make sure you were safe with her. Against her shoulder. You didn't know that deep down it wasn't just for your comfort. Leah needed to hold you, do feel that you're alright against her warm body. That you were there and safe in her arms.
“You didn’t ruin anything.” She whispered. “None of that was your fault. You were just a kid. Bloody hell, you still are. And you deserved better every single day of your life.”
You broke then, fully, sobbing into your hoodie sleeve as the weight of years pressed down on your tiny frame. Neglect and abuse had worn you down. You just couldn't take anything anymore. You were so lost and broken… before when you had gotten to this point people had left. They had bolted out the door to never return or even worse, they had kicked you out after you had opened up.
But Leah moved closer. She wrapped her arm around your shoulders and pulled you into the kind of hug that wasn’t forced or awkward or earned. It just was… it felt so right and you never wanted to leave her arms again. For the first time in your life you felt like everything was safe.
“Listen to me.” She said softly, voice thick with tears of her own. “You are not hard to love. You are not broken. You are brave. And you are mine now. Okay? Ours. You don’t ever have to be alone again.”
You buried your face into her shoulder and cried quietly.
“I don’t know how to be okay.” you whispered.
“That’s alright.” Leah murmured. “You don’t have to be. You just have to let us love you until you believe you deserve it.”
Leah hadn't told them right away. She had wanted to… the minute you had explained your past she had thought about just picking you up and running to the room of one of the other girls and telling them so she could have help. Because she felt so overwhelmed with all this. Like how could she help a traumatized teen that's talented enough at football to make it to the Euros at 16.
But she didn't. She held you till you were calm and then took you to your rooms where she helped you settle and quietly got your consent to share your story with some of the other girls. You had just nodded before falling asleep.
She waited until you were asleep, curled up in the hotel bed after a day that left your heart heavy and your eyes puffy from tears. She sat on the edge for a while, watching the rise and fall of your breathing, like she couldn’t quite let herself walk away. You just seemed so small and lost. She couldn't help but feel like she had to protect you. Like you needed her to watch over you while you're so vulnerable.
But after a while Leah slipped out of the room and found the others downstairs, like she had texted them.
It wasn’t all of them. She had texted everyone that there was a situation with you but some of the players still had recovery and couldn't come… and others just didn't care about you, still rather wary about the teen in the midst. But she stepped into the lobby to see Lucy Bronze, Keira Walsh, Georgia Stanway, Alessia Russo, Grace Clinton, Lotte Wubben-Moy, Beth Mead, Esme Morgan, Hannah Hampton and Tooney. Leah was relieved. Everyone here already had some sort of bond with you and knew how precious you were… They were halfway through a card game and a plate of biscuits when Leah sat down, her face serious.
As soon as they noticed her face the mood changed instantly.
“What’s happened?” Lucy asked, her voice low, alert.
Leah sighed, rubbing her palms together. She wasn’t sure how to say it. Her heart was already broken but she knew that the others would take it just as hard. For all of them you were like a little sister and to hear that you were suffering would be hard.
“She told me.” she said finally. “About her past… it's bad. I… she grew up in the care system.”
The table went still. Everyone was shocked.
“No one’s ever made her feel safe.” Leah continued, her voice cracking. “Not really. Not for long. She’s been hungry. She’s been cold. She’s been told she’s too much, or not enough. She’s been left alone more times than I can count. And she’s sixteen… she's been neglected and abused.”
No one spoke. Every single one of these women was in shock that the teen they all adored so much could have gone through so much personal tragedy… and that you hadn't told them before broke their heart, even though they knew why. You had trust issues and anxiety. You just didn't feel comfortable sharing it yet…. Even Grace, usually the lightest soul in the room, just sat there, stunned, already teary-eyed.
“She didn’t tell me for sympathy.” Leah added. “She told me because it’s eating her alive. The fear. The self-doubt. She thinks if she messes up, we’ll stop loving her.”
“But we wouldn’t.” Grace said quickly, voice trembling. “We never would.”
“I know.” Leah said softly. “But she doesn’t. Not yet.”
Beth wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her hoodie. “What do you want us to do?”
“Just keep showing up.” Leah said quietly. “Keep being you. Gentle. Kind. Fun. Safe. She’s letting us in, slowly, but we have to earn it every day.”
Alessia was already nodding determined, she was known to be sweet and loving after all.. “We can do that.”
“She’s so brave.” Esme whispered, tears in her eyes as she thought about you and all you had to go through just to get here.
“She shouldn’t have to be.” Lotte added, she sounded almost angry, which for Lotte is more than unusual.
Leah looked around the circle, her eyes red, voice a bit shaky but determined.
“She’s one of us now. A Lionesses. And we protect our own.”
The team nodded, agreeing with their captain. They would protect they didn't know how they'd get you out of the system and keep you safe permanently but they would. They would do whatever it takes to keep the youngest lionesses out of harm's way.
From that night on, everything changed.
It started when a few hours later Lucy, Alessia and Leah took you out on a small shopping trip. At first you were confused why they had taken you along but when they started pulling stuff from the rags that would fit you know what's going on. They wanted to make sure you had enough and warm clothes.
So you found yourself standing in front of a boutique mirror, wearing a hoodie that actually fit your body and trainers that hadn’t been used by five other people before you. It was cute, a light yellow and real soft inside.
Lucy bought you three sets of them. “No arguing.” She said. “This is a captain’s order.”
You looked up and raised an eyebrow. “You're not my captain. Leah is.” But Leah walks up behind you and gently pats your back. “Yeah and you're getting it.” Immediately you blush deeply, but Lucy still grabs the three hoodies.
Meanwhile Alessia picked out socks with silly patterns, ducks, lightning bolts, stars. “You deserve to have soft things.” She said, placing them in your basket. You tried to open your mouth but she just continues picking stuff.
They make you model a few outfits, mostly simple, cute and soft things. Whenever you tried to argue that you didn't need it they just shushed you and chose something else as well. Leah just stood beside you, hand on your back the whole time, as if reminding you she was real and here and staying.
Then on your next off day Lotte invited you to the team kitchen with her and some other girls. She has planned to make some chocolate cookies with Esme and Grace. They had already put bowls, flour, sugar and chocolate chips out.
“I've never baked before.” You said quietly and Esme gasped. “You've never baked? Alright then, put your gloves on.”
Technically you and Lotte did most of the work. Well, Lotte really. Esme helped by getting stuff from the pantry and cleaning up, Grace had announced herself as the taste tested and DJ. So you were baking your first ever Cookies to one Pop Song after the other.
You also weren't much help, but Lotte helped you measure the ingredients and showered you how to scoop the dough and make little balls so they bake into perfect chocolate cookies. Hers were so beautiful and even, yours were pretty wonky compared to hers, but she just shrugged and said. “Perfectly Imperfect. They'll taste good anyway.”
After pushing them into the oven Grace put on an obnoxiously catchy pop song and pulled you onto the tiles with her onto a kitchen dance just on your socks. You didn't even realize you had started laughing with your whole chest for the first time in years. You just felt so happy. You didn't realize you were still smiling when Lotte passed you a heart shaped cookie and quietly whispered. “You're safe with us, baby. Okay?”
And you nodded. Not to placate her and make her feel better, but because you genuinely felt safe with them.
One late afternoon there was a knock on your door, it startled you a bit but you quietly opened it. It was Esme smiling widely. She held up a ton of crafting supplies excitedly. You couldn't even see everything that was in the box.
“I wanted to make bracelets? And I could use someone to help me with colour choices? You'd be up for that?” Esme asked, smiling gently. Deep down you knew she was just asking you to spend time with her so you wouldn't be alone but you didn't mind.
You let her into your hotel room and she spread everything on your bed. There were a lot of different colored embroidery threads and even some beads. The kit was a little worn down, clearly something she had been using for years and loved doing, considering how organized it was.
She didn't talk much at first. Just showed you how to tie the knots and how to knit the bracelet. How to thread beads on without pulling too tight and making the thread rip. You didn't try at first just gently watching with a lot of interest. It looked fun and calming as she tied one knot after another.
“Each one of the colors has a meaning to me.” She said, holding up a half-finished bracelet. “Like green us for growth. Blue’s for calm, Yellow for joy. That kind of thing.” You nodded a bit and watched intently as she made the bracelet. She gently pushed the threads to you. “Why don't you try making one?” She asked gently.
You looked at the different colors wide-eyed. There were so many choices and they all were beautiful. You ended up picking Lavender for peace. White for safety and Pink… you weren't sure why you picked pink. Esme said she associated it with love and immediately your hand had drifted to it. Maybe because you were desperately craving to be loved and maybe because you finally realized you were. You didn't know. Esme noticed though.
“You don’t have to talk about anything. But if you ever want to… you can.” She said quietly tying her bracelets knots. You nodded, fingers clumsy but getting better with each pass of thread.
By the end of the afternoon, you had two bracelets on your wrist. One from Esme, one that you had made yourself. You had also made one for her and she put it on happily, even though it wasn't nearly as good as the ones she made herself.
“Don’t take them off.” she said, tapping your wrist. “Even if they get old. That’s how they work. They stay with you. Just like we will.”
So you didn’t take them off. Instead you carefully wrapped them from then on during training and games.
It was a quiet morning. Most of the team was sleeping in, but you were restless. You had woken up early and just couldn't go back to sleep. So you put on some of your new clothes that had been bought by Lucy and Alessia. When you entered the team lounge it was mostly empty. For some reason Beth was already up. She and Tooney were sharing a coffee.
As soon as Beth noticed you she waved you over and you shyly approached. “Good morning.” You greeted unsure and both women smiled softly. “Morning sweetheart… you look restless.” Beth said softly and Tooney stood up. “C’mon. We wanted to go on a walk. Why don't you join us.”
You walked through the nearby trail path, sunlight filtering through trees. Beth had a thermos of tea. Ella carried a bag of gummy worms she insisted were “a walking essential.”
About fifteen minutes in, Beth slowed her pace looking at you gently.
“You know I lost my mum, right?” she said softly. You blinked a bit. You knew of course, you had been told and she had spoken about it on social media so you nod your head a bit.
“Cancer,” she said. “It’s been over two years and I still miss her everyday.”
Tooney reached for your hand. “My dad died last fall. It's really weird cause I still want to call him like I used to when something exciting at camp happens.”
At first you didn't speak. You were quietly listening as they shared their story of grieve and pain. But then you opened your mouth.
“I don't know my dad. never met him. My mum died when I was a little under two years old, I don't remember her. I've been told she committed, you know… and I was the one that found her. But I don't remember. It's probably better that way… I just wish I had memories or pictures. I wonder if she'd be proud and if she loved me…” You said quietly and played with bracelets Esme and you had made.
They just walked slower after that. Let you lean into their warmth. Let you cry, just a little, when Beth took your other hand.
“We’re still here,” Tooney said softly. “And so is she… and she'd be so proud. Just like we all are. Like my dad and Beth's mum are too.”
It happened after a team meeting. Someone had joked around about their scariest memory being when someone ran onto the pitch during a game. You had laughed a bit before quietly mumbling.
“I think I was the most scared when my second foster father locked me into the closet for like a week. I thought I'd die there. He didn't even give me food or water. In the end the police found me and got me out.” You mumbled it quiet but casual. Like all the other girls did. But it was a lot heavier. Still they didn't make you feel bad for it. Most of them looked so pained to hear what you've been through. While talking you had talked your voice started shaking and your throat was feeling tight.
So you quickly left the room to cry on your own. Grace immediately rushed after you, following you out of the room. She didn’t say anything, just wrapped her arms around you tightly the moment she caught up in the hallway. Her grip was so tight and firm.
At first, your body tensed just out of instinct or reflex, not really out of fear because you knew you never had to fear Grace, but even after you tensed up Grace didn't let go.
She just held onto you like she meant it. You knew she was a big huger and loved cuddles, yet you had never been on the receiving end of her affection for this long. She held you close and stroked your back adoringly.
And for the first time in your life you didn't flinch, you didn't pull away. No this time you buried your far into her shoulder and wrapped arms around her too. You soaked in the warmth and safety.
And when you finally whispered, “Thank you,” she only squeezed you tighter.
“No,” she said. “Thank you for letting me.”
It was the day before the final and you were wandering the hotel hallways again. Nor restless just… unsure of what to do with yourself. That's when you heard quiet piano music being played. You followed the sound to find Hannah playing. You had seen her play before so it wasn't too surprising. You watched from nearby as she played, it was just some runs of scales and some short snippets of songs.
“Come here.” She said when she noticed you hovering, patting the bench next to her for you to sit down. Unsure you glance at her face but she just smiles and pats the bench again. So you padded over and sat down next to her. Your shoulders were touching, but you didn't mind. She was a safe person, you knew that.
“Have you ever played before?” She asked softly and you shook your head. “never had one… or lessons.”
She smiled and placed your fingers on the keys. “Let’s change that.”
Hannah started showing simple chords and melodies. Just enough to show you how each key felt, how they sounded together. It was fun and you were calm as you sat there playing what she showed you. You didn't even notice that you had started to smile and relax as you sat there.
“For me music is a good outlet when the world is too much. If you play just soft you there's no rules. Just feel it and have fun.” Hannah said softly.
Your fingers stumbled. You hit wrong notes. She laughed softly but never made fun of you. In fact she nodded encouragingly each time you glanced at her after a mistake, like she wanted to make sure you'd continue playing.
“You’re not here to impress anyone.” Hannah said. “You’re here to feel and have a good time." And you did.
You stayed there for an hour, playing broken little melodies. Hannah never left your side.
Then comes the final match. England against Spain. It was a lot. Spain scored in the 25th minute and after the first half you were still down by one. You were on the bench not expecting to be subbed in. The second half begins and in the 57th minute Alessia Russo gets the equalizer through a header.
You didn’t expect to be subbed in. But in the 70th minute Alex Greenwood takes a hit against the head. Sarina nods to you to warm up and you do. Her voice was low, firm and steady. “You're on.” you knew why she had chosen you. You played in the same position as Alex.
While Alex was being taken off to the side, she was awake but likely had a bad concussion, Leah met you at the sidelines. Her eyes were calm and collected and she nodded. “Just play. We've got you.” You nod a tiny bit and hug her tightly before sprinting across the field into your position.
Here you were in your first world cup final with this only being your 3rd cap for the Lionesses at only 16. You were running, sprinting up and down the sidelines, blocking players like Aitana Bonmati. But you did a good job, you had great footwork and ball control for your age and managed to win one battle for the ball after the other. And if you couldn't get it out of the box controlled you at least hammered it far up the pitch so your team has a second to breathe.
With injury time another 8 minutes was added after twenty minutes… and in 90+3 minute a chance came. You had blocked Aitana and stolen the ball from her and immediately sprinted back towards the Spanish goal, you were looking for someone to pass too. Someone like Chloe, Michelle or Lauren but they were all in a huddle of Spanish players and not in the position to take a ball. So you just did it yourself. You went into full sprint with the ball at your feet, running right towards Ona Batlle, which for a second scared you. You knew she was a brilliant defender, you had watched hundreds of her games online to analyze her footwork to be a better defender.
You don't know what happened between her trying to get the ball from you and you making a small trick to get some space before you suddenly took the shot towards the goal yourself. The ball was flying beautifully. Curling nicely and then it hit the back of the net. You were in shock for a second and also not entirely sure if you had been offside or not so you just stood there. If you hadn't been offside then your first goal for the Lionesses might just be the winning goal for the 2025 Euros.
You stood there in shock when someone hugged you for a second. You went stiff till you realized it was just Leah. You turned to her wide-eyed while you both waited for the VAR-Check.
“I hope I wasn't offside. I hope it counts.” You whisper and she just nodded and hugged you close. Some of the other girls on the pitch had started jogging over so hopefully you could all celebrate together… the Spanish girls looked tense.
Then comes the verdict. It was a goal, you weren't offside. The team swarmed you and you were crying and laughing with happiness at the same time you made 2-1 for England in this Euros final.
There were still a few minutes to play so after about 30 seconds you had to run back to your spot but you were beaming and wiping tears of relief away at the same time. As you ran past the bench you shyly waved at Alessia, Ella and the others, who had already been subbed out or hadn't played at all. You were so happy but still a shy bean. The whole bench was already celebrating. If for the next 4 minutes Spain didn't get a goal England would be back to back Euros champions.
The next four minutes are brutal. You get fouled two times in four minutes, it's obvious Spain is now playing rough in hopes of getting one past Hannah so we'd at least go into extended time. But then finally the whistle blew and it was over. England's Lionesses were back to back Euro champions. You had scored the winning goal.
You collapsed to your knees as the whistle blew, overwhelmed. Then the team swarmed you, Lauren tackling you into the grass, Georgia shouting “Superstar!” into your hair, Lucy pulling you upright with both arms. Leah found you in the chaos, hands on your shoulders.
“You did it.”
You blush a bit and shrug. “The team did.”
“We did. But you scored that goal.” Georgia said excitedly and the others nodded. You blush and nod before saying quietly.. “But we won as a team.”
Leah smiled through her tears. “Yeah. We did.”
After a short bit of celebrating most of the team started running to their families and fans. You stand there unsure before you decide on what to do. You walk from one Spanish player to the next shaking their hand and quietly telling them that it was an honor to meet them and play against them. You were clearly scared and intimidated by most of them, but you didn't have anyone to go to and it felt right. Plus it seemed to somewhat cheer them up.
When you realized the only ones missing were Alexia Putellas and Ona Batlle you got really nervous. You decided to approach Ona first, she was with Lucy… you shyly shake her hand and whisper. “It’s really an honor to meet you.” Ona chuckled a bit. “You're just as sweet as Lucy said, bebe.”
Immediately you blushed a bit and Lucy patted you back. “Are you making the rounds shaking hands?” She asked and you nodded. “Yeah. I am almost done…”
“Who's still missing?” Ona asked. “Uhm. Alexia Putellas...” You knew that everyone just said Alexia, but it felt so wrong. She was a grown up and crazy good soccer player. You didn't want to be disrespectful.
Lucy chuckled, after all she knew Alexia pretty well from her time at Barça Femeni. She waved the forward over. Ona was also grinning as Alexia walked over. She was clearly still very upset about losing the game and you subconsciously curl close to Lucy just in case she was mad at you for scoring the winning goal.
But she wasn't mad. She smiled a bit. “You're the kid that scored. It's nice to meet you. I am Alexia.” You immediately blush. “I… I know.” Your starstruck answer made Lucy and Ona laugh even more. It was obvious that like most younger players Alexia was an idol for you. After all she was considered one of the best female players currently.
Lucy said something in quick Spanish that I didn't catch and Alexia nodded and smiled a bit. She pointed to her shirt and then to you. “Switch later?” Immediately you nodded excitedly. “Yes please. If that's okay. I mean…” You were a bit unsure, what if she rather wanted the Shirt of Leah or Lucy, like someone who was actually a well-known player. But she just nodded pleased.
Then the award ceremony happens. First the young Player of the tournament. You expected Michelle to get it, after all she has scored two goals. You didn't really consider your penalty against Sweden your first goal since it was just a penalty… but then you get called up and get the small award. You take it shyly and shake the hands of many officials, including Prince William which is like mind-blowing for you. Aitana also gets an award for being the Player of the Tournament…
Then you and the Lionesses stand there and cheer for the Spanish players as they get their silver medals and then you get your gold medals. You decided to walk somewhere in the middle so hopefully nobody would speak to you. You shook most of the hands and got your medal before jogging to the stage where the players were supposed to pose.
Leah walked over last with the trophy and then held it up for photos as you all cheered. The cheering went on for a while, before you all went into the locker room. Leah had given someone else the trophy and wrapped an arm around you as you walked.
And for the first time in your life you just let it happen, no flinching, no getting stiff. You felt a high of happiness and excitement. Like nothing could stop you. You had scored the winning goal. You really were a lioness.
Leah smiled at you. “Now I just gotta get you to Arsenal so I can train you up as my retirement plan.”
Summary: it's the euro final but for you who plays at Barca and for the lionesses it feels like a kickabout with family. So in typical teen fashion, you cause some mischief.
Warnings: none
Masterlist
You’d been raised in Barcelona, the city you loved most in the world, but England was still home in its own way. Born in London, raised under the Spanish sun, you had always been torn between two nations. Now, at sixteen years old, you were living a dream most kids could only imagine. A player for FC Barcelona Femení and already called up to the Lionesses.
That was the thing about tonight, it wasn’t just a game. It was your two worlds colliding. The Euro Final 2025. England vs. Spain… well England vs. half of your club teammates.
The tunnel was buzzing, players from both teams lined up, boots clicking against the concrete as you all waited for the cue to walk out. You rocked back and forth on your heels, humming softly to yourself, your nervous energy spilling into something lighter, playful.
Leah, standing a few spots ahead, glanced back at you with a small smile. She could tell you were jittery. Usually, you masked it behind a mature, collected front, but tonight? No point pretending. Not when the people on both sides of the tunnel felt like family. You knew that even playing against them nobody here would tackle you in a way that would injure you, nobody would use your nerves against you. They all adored you too much.
You shifted closer to the familiar figure just across from you… Alexia Putellas, Barça’s captain, her expression as calm and unreadable as ever. For a second, you considered behaving like the professional everyone expected you to be. But… where was the fun in that?
Reaching out, you gave her a sudden poke to the ribs. Quick, mischievous, and absolutely out of nowhere. Alexia stiffened, her head snapping toward you with an incredulous look. “¿En serio?” She muttered under her breath, eyes narrowing.
But before she could scold you, you darted forward, slipping past Lucy and Georgia with a grin plastered across your face, acting as though you hadn’t done a thing. You were giggling a bit. Nerves falling off of you.
Leah caught the whole thing. Her brows shot up, and she muttered under her breath. “What’s gotten into you?”
You only shrugged innocently, adjusting your shirt again and rocking back on your heels again, waiting for the referee to lead you out. Inside, though, you were already fighting laughter. And as the anthems swelled outside and the teams prepared to walk out, you caught Alexia still watching you, the faintest trace of a smile tugging at her lips. You weren't sure if it was because you almost started singing the Spanish one too, but Lucy had slapped you on the back to stop.
The roar of the crowd was deafening as the Euro 2025 Final kicked off. England vs Spain, a dream matchup, and for you, a clash of worlds. For most players, this was a night of pressure, nerves, and grit. But for you? This was home.
You’d grown up on the pitches of Barcelona, weaving tricks into your game like second nature. Tonight wasn’t about holding yourself back, it was about letting that joy spill over, even if it meant causing a little chaos along the way.
The ball came to your feet early, and you instantly flicked it up, balancing it on your thigh before volleying it to Georgia Stanway in one fluid motion. The crowd roared, and you grinned ‘yep, that’s how we’re starting tonight.’
Minutes later, you found yourself sprinting side by side with Aitana Bonmatí. You could feel her eyes narrowing, waiting for you to make a predictable move. Instead, you dragged the ball back with a cheeky roulette, spun past her, and tapped the ball through her legs before darting off.
“¡Oye!” Aitana’s voice carried after you, more amused than annoyed.
You didn’t dare look back, you were too busy laughing under your breath as you laid off a perfect pass. It was especially funny because she had been the one to teach you that trick when you were 14 and watching wide-eyed as the women practiced.
Not long after, Ona Batlle tried to pin you on the wing. You feigned left, dragged right, then scooped the ball neatly over her boot, slipping past as she stumbled a step behind.
“You’re impossible.” Ona groaned, chasing after you.
“You love it!” You shot back with a grin, before tearing down the pitch.
And then came Alexia. Barça’s captain, Spain’s golden leader, the woman who knew you better than anyone on that pitch. She squared up to you, eyes sharp, body steady. Normally, you’d show her respect, but not tonight.
You flicked the ball lightly between her legs, darted around, and scooped it back up before she could even turn.
“¡Niña!” Alexia barked, half furious, half fighting laughter. You sprinted away, hands raised innocently, acting like you hadn’t just embarrassed one of the greatest midfielders in the world. The crowd loved it, the commentators couldn’t stop talking about it, and you? You were thriving. She couldn't even be mad because she felt so proud of how good you were doing and how happy you looked.
For England, you were giving your all, but you couldn’t wipe the grin from your face. For Spain, every trick, every cheeky touch, was a reminder that you weren’t playing against strangers. You were playing against friends. Against family.
And for you, this final, this chaos, felt less like the biggest game of your life, and more like a backyard kickabout with everyone you loved most.
The whistle blew for halftime, and both teams trudged off the pitch into the tunnel. The scoreline was tight, the atmosphere tense, but you weren’t feeling it, not in the same way.
You grabbed a water bottle from the staff table and plopped down beside Vicky, someone you’d basically grown up with at Barça. It didn’t matter that she was technically your opponent right now; this felt like training back home, not the Euro final.
“Did you see Aitana’s face when I nutmegged her?” You giggled, taking a long sip before passing the bottle over. The Spaniard snorted, nearly choking on the water. “She’s going to kill you later. I swear, you’ve got no fear.”
You shrugged, leaning back against the wall with a grin. “It’s only fair. She does it to me all the time in training.”
You both laughed, sharing the bottle like it was just another break at Ciutat Esportiva Joan Gamper. The nerves, the pressure, the cameras, none of it existed in that little bubble. It was just you and your best friend. Well Vicky was basically your sister with how close you were.
That was, until two shadows loomed over you.
You looked up to find Alexia standing there with her arms folded, her captain’s stare firmly in place, and Leah Williamson hovering just behind, eyebrows raised. Alexia crouched slightly, speaking low but firm. “Cariño, this is the Euro final, not a friendly training in Barcelona.”
Leah crossed her arms, giving you the mum look. “You’re supposed to be in our huddle, not making friends with the opposition.”
“But she’s not the opposition?” You protested, pointing at your Vicky. “She’s family.”
Your friend nodded eagerly, only for Alexia to immediately shake her head. “Not for the next forty-five minutes, she isn’t.”
Leah leaned down so her face was level with yours. “Come on. Focus. You can giggle with your Barça mates after the trophy’s lifted, yeah?”
You sighed dramatically, dragging yourself to your feet. “Fine. But even if England wins, I’m still sitting at their table for dinner… I don't wanna see noodles anymore. I need real food. And garlic. God I miss garlic.”
Alexia muttered something under her breath in Spanish, Leah rolled her eyes, and Vicky gave you one last grin before the captains successfully herded you back to your respective teams. And as you rejoined the Lionesses’ huddle, you couldn’t resist looking over your shoulder, giving a cheeky little wave.
The second half kicked off, the stadium noise rattling through your chest. This was it — the last forty-five minutes of the Euro final. For everyone else, the tension was suffocating. For you? It was just like back home.
The ball zipped your way, and you flicked it up with the outside of your boot, juggling it twice before volleying it across the field. The crowd gasped; your teammates cheered. You were grinning ear to ear, living for the moment.
But Spain knew you too well.
Not long after, Patri sidled up beside you during a stoppage, her hand brushing your shoulder. “Tranquila, pequeña. Save the circus for training.” She teased, smirking as she jogged off.
Moments later Aitana intercepted your pass and shouted across the pitch, “Not so clever now, eh?” Her grin gave her away, it wasn’t mocking, it was the same kind of sibling rivalry you’d always had at Barça.
And then came Ona, your favourite drill partner. She tracked you down the wing, hip-checking you lightly before you could cut inside. You stumbled with a laugh, nearly tripping.
“Careful, hermanita.” Ona teased. “I might actually have to mark you like a real player.”
“You wouldn’t dare!” You shot back, half laughing, half sprinting away to chase the ball.
Even Alexia cracked eventually. You caught her trying not to laugh when you cheekily tried a rainbow flick against her. She shook her head, muttering, “Niña traviesa,” before jogging away.
By now, both teams had clocked it: you weren’t the composed, serious prodigy tonight. You were the chaotic little sister and everyone, Spanish and English alike,seemed to be in on the joke. From the England bench, Keira was shaking her head, muttering, “She’s unstoppable when she’s like this.” From Spain’s side, Vicky was laughing with her arms crossed. “It’s like trying to contain a puppy.”
And you? You thrived in it. Every cheeky touch, every trick, every giggle felt like proof that this was more than a match. It was family, even in the biggest final of your life.
The final whistle pierced the air, and Wembley erupted into a wall of sound. England had done it, Euro champions. Players collapsed, screamed, cried, sprinted across the pitch with flags and banners.
You stood there for a second, heart pounding, a grin spreading across your face. You’d just won the Euros. At sixteen.
Your teammates mobbed you, dragging you into the huddle of white shirts. Leah lifted the trophy high above her head, and the Lionesses roared. You cheered with them, bounced with them, but your eyes… they drifted.
Across the pitch, the women you called family, the ones who raised you in football, who teased you every day in training, were sitting in red shirts, heads bowed, faces etched with heartbreak.
The announcement of the awards barely registered until someone nudged you forward.
“Go on, Y/N!” Ella Toone grinned, shoving you lightly.
You blinked, realizing they’d just called your name. Young Player of the Tournament.
The medal was slipped around your neck, the award out in your hand, the cameras flashing, the crowd chanting. But instead of basking in the spotlight, you turned and bolted, straight toward the Spanish side.
Alexia was kneeling, tying her hair back, her face unreadable. You didn’t even hesitate, throwing your arms around her shoulders. She stiffened for a moment before sighing, her hand instinctively patting your back.
“Niña.” She murmured softly, “You’re supposed to be celebrating.”
“I am celebrating.” You said brightly, pulling back just enough to grin at her. “But not without you. “You need cuddles…. Are you feeling better yet?” Alexia chuckled and patted your hair. “Not much. It stings to lose.” You sigh and hug her tighter. “Then it hasn't kicked in yet.”
Around you, the other Spaniards looked up, a little surprised, until you moved from player to player, hugging each of them, murmuring little things to lighten the mood.
To Aitana: “You know that nutmeg was pure luck, right?”
To Patri: “You still bossed the midfield, I was just winging it.”
To Ona: “Next time I’ll let you catch me. Maybe.”
One by one, you dragged smiles out of them, even if just tiny ones. You gave snuggles, let them hold you, even if you usually didn't like being babied. But if it made them happy you didn't mind.
Alexia watched the whole thing, shaking her head in disbelief. You were supposed to be standing on the podium, soaking in the biggest win of your young career. Instead, you were flitting around like a little bee, trying to glue broken hearts back together.
Leah came over eventually, medal around her neck, the trophy still in her arms. She glanced at Alexia, then at you, half laughing. “She really can’t switch it off, can she?”
Alexia’s lips curved into the faintest smile. “No. That’s just who she is.”
And when you finally returned to the England celebrations, still giggling with Ona’s words in your ears and Alexia’s arm having steadied you, it didn’t matter that you’d just won the biggest tournament of your life. Because family, whether in red or white, was always more important.
After the medal ceremonies and the hugs were done, Alexia lingered near the tunnel, waiting. Most other Spanish players had already left back to their changing room. Leah jogged up, trophy still in her hands, and the two captains shared a quiet, conspiratorial glance.
“So… how was she?” Alexia asked softly, her voice low, almost hesitant.
Leah smiled, shaking her head with fond exasperation. “Oh, you know our little duckie. Ate whatever she wanted, tried to boss everyone on the pitch, but she was fine. Checked with the medics for her ankle, and yes… somehow managed to do her math homework in between goals. Don’t ask me how, she never tells you or me that stuff herself.”
Alexia let out a soft laugh and looked at her British counterpart. “Exactly. I asked her three times if she did her homework before camp, and I got a shrug. No idea if she actually did it until you tell me.”
“That’s why we have our calls.” Leah said with a knowing grin. The two captains had set up regular FaceTime check-ins with them and you. Because in Barcelona Alexia was your guardian but on camp Leah was. Sometimes you wonder if this is how children of divorce feel.“She forgets to tell either of us half the time. So we make sure to fill each other in.”
Alexia sighed, relieved. “Good. I was worried she was going to skip dinner again. Did she at least eat?” Leah rolled her eyes. “Barely. But she’s alive. That counts.”
Alexia smiled faintly, half-exasperated, half-soft. “I still can’t believe she normally lives with me, but during camp, I have to get my updates from you.”
“She’s worth it.” Leah said simply, “Even when she drives us both crazy.”
The two captains shared a small laugh, an unspoken agreement passing between them. No matter the rivalry, no matter the trophies, they were both looking out for you, just from opposite sides of the field. They heard you running over before they saw you and really you immediately curled up between them. “Can I get Pizza for dinner?”
Summary: You're at camp and not acting like yourself. Between Homework, Euros Prep and everything else you're drowning. The team steps in.
Warnings: mentions of toxic home, struggling in school... Algebra?
Masterlist
This is the last request from an anon. I hope whoever requested liked the three one shots I wrote.
You hadn't even taken your boots off, after practice when Tooney caught your eye from across the training pitch. She was sitting with Lessi and usually you'd sit with the two. You had met Tooney at Man United at the start of the season and bonded with her. Thanks to her you had met Lessi, who played with Arsenal, but you liked the blonde. So when you had first been called up to a senior camp for the Lionesses the two had taken you under their wing.
She didn’t say anything. Not yet. But she looked at you too long for it to be nothing, a familiar, quiet kind of concern. You just pulled your hoodie tighter and ducked your head. Hiding in the soft fabric of the England hoodie. You loved the clothes you got here. They were soft and warm.
This was your third England camp. Sixteen years old. Meant to be the future of the English squad and women's football in England. You loved it, you really did, but right now you didn't feel like it. Maybe you still were that girl that Sarina has seen so much potential in and called up beside her age. Maybe you still were. But lately you'd ding feel like it, you just felt lost and overwhelmed.
They all noticed that you weren't the same girl who had walked into your first camp all shy and anxious, only to come out of your shell after a few days, laughing with Ella, doing TikToks with Esme and the other younger players, teasing Lucy. Back then, they’d all said, “She’s a quiet one, but cheeky once you know her.” Lucy had lovingly dubbed you ‘Pip’ short for Pipsqueak and it stuck.
But now you went back to square one. Quiet, distant. Head down. Always tired. It worried them, you were usually such a cute and spunky girl.
You were trying. You really were. But home was loud and cold and full of pressure. School was a disaster. You hadn’t handed in your last two assignments. Your teachers were emailing. And your mum… well, the less said about her, the better.
“Oi.”
You flinched a little as someone flopped down beside you on the bench in the recovery room. You had been so deep in thought, that you hadn't even thought about what was going on around you. So you hadn't noticed the grown ups on the team as they exchanged worried glances before they decided that the one person that knew you best would approach you.
Ella.
Her hair was tied up, her cheeks still flushed from the cool-down run, and she was holding two water bottles, offering one without a word. You took it quietly and looked at it before you smiled a bit.
“Thought you hated lemon flavour,” you mumbled as you uncapped the bottle quietly and started to drink it.
Ella tilted her head. “That’s how I knew you’d take it. Sussed you out, haven’t I?”
You sighed, but a tiny smile graced your lips. It was barely there, but still. But Ella didn’t laugh like she usually would. She watched you for a moment, then leaned forward, elbows on her knees.
“You alright, Y/N?”
You nodded automatically. She didn’t believe you. She let the silence settle for a second, then said softly, “You’ve gone quiet. I mean, really quiet. Not the ‘too shy to talk’ kind. The ‘carrying something heavy’ kind… we're worried.”
That nearly broke you. You didn't want them to worry. Not about you and your stupid school problems. They were all adults with their own problems and they shouldn't worry about your grades.You blinked fast, jaw clenched.
Ella reached out and gently bumped your shoulder. “If you ever wanna talk… you know I’m here, yeah? No pressure. Just don’t shut me out, kid.”
You couldn’t look at her. Could only nod, too quickly.
You weren’t even sure what exactly tipped you over the edge. Maybe the missed call from your mum. The unread email from school. The look on Sarina’s face during the feedback session.
That night, after everyone had eaten and dispersed to their rooms, you found yourself standing outside the hotel’s stairwell door. Alone. Hood up. Hoodie sleeves pulled over your hands. You couldn’t go back to your room. You couldn’t cry in there. Your roommate might hear. So you sat on the cold stair and let your eyes burn.
You were tired of failing, while everyone acted like you weren't. And everyone was expecting you to also act like that. God you were so tired of pretending
You didn’t hear the door to the stairwell open until someone sat down on the step above you. Most people used the elevator so the stairwell usually was empty and nobody used it.
“Didn’t mean to scare you.” came a soft voice. Calm. Familiar. Leah. Of course it was Leah. Whenever Ella didn't get through to you she sent one of your captains. Either Maya or Leah, usually Leah. Leah just had this aura around her. She made you feel safe and fuzzy, while also being stern enough that you actually listened to her.
You didn’t look at her this time though. Just scrubbed at your face and hoped you didn’t look like a total wreck. She didn’t say anything for a while. Just sat with you. Let the silence settle.
“I figured you might be up,” she said eventually. “Been keeping an eye on you. Hope that’s alright.” You gave a tiny non-committal shrug.
“I don’t want to push,” she continued, her voice low. “But I remember your first camp. You didn’t say ten words that first day. Then you lit up. You were bright, cheeky. Made us laugh.” She paused. “But this week… it’s like you’re trying to disappear again.”
That hurt. But it was true. You stared at your hands, clenched and unclenched them as you tried to keep control.
Leah shifted a little, finally leaning forward so she could see your face. “What’s going on, Y/N?”
You swallowed hard before you answered, you couldn't lie to Leah, she was your captain. “It’s just… stuff. At home. And school. I’m behind on everything. I feel like I can’t catch up. Like I’m letting everyone down.”
“You’re not.”
“I am.”
“Okay,” Leah said gently, “but you don’t have to carry it alone.”
You stayed quiet, eyes stinging again.
And then she quietly added. “You’re sixteen, Y/N. You’re allowed to struggle. That doesn’t make you weak.”
You let out a shaky breath. “Feels like I have to be perfect all the time. Like if I mess up, everything will fall apart… everyone expects so much of me and they already call me the future of women's football and so much more. It's just too much.”
Leah nodded. “I know that feeling. A lot of us do. But this team, me, Tooney, Lessi all the girls, we’ve got you. You don’t have to earn that.” She reached out and squeezed your wrist.
“You’re not alone, okay? Not on this pitch. Not in this camp. And definitely not tonight.”
You finally let your head drop onto her shoulder, body trembling with the sobs you’d been holding in for days. As you do bed into her shoulder till you're completely exhausted and shaking. And Leah just held you.
You still dreaded the morning, dragging yourself out of bed with heavy limbs and a foggy mind. The ache in your muscles reminded you of yesterday’s training, but the weight in your chest was far heavier. Your eyes were puffy and red-rimmed from last night, your skin pale beneath the harsh fluorescent lights of the hotel dining room.
You shuffled in, barely noticing the hum of early conversations around you. Breakfast was usually a time of laughter, Ella’s infectious energy lighting up the table and a few sleepier players shuffling around like zombies much to everyone's amusement. But today, your heart felt too tight to join in.
And yet, as soon as you stepped in, Ella caught your eye and waved you over with that unmistakable spark in her gaze, a silent promise that you weren’t alone. She cleared a spot beside her without hesitation, and Alessia, grinning from ear to ear, slid a glass of orange juice and a croissant toward you like a peace offering. You sat down, feeling the warmth of their presence seep into the cold fog of your mind.
“Big day,” Ella said, her voice low and teasing, as if you shared a secret only the two of you knew.
You blinked, confused.
“What do you mean?” you asked, hoping your voice didn’t betray the uncertainty bubbling inside you. “We don't have much training today?”
Ella leaned in, smirking just a little. “You’ve got class.”
Before you could process her words, Leah passed by in her training kit, coffee in hand. Her sharp eyes caught yours, and she gave a quick nod. She seemed very pleased with herself, clearly she had set something in motion while you had slept.
“Homework club,” Leah announced, voice firm but kind. “You’re not falling behind on our watch.”
You parted your lips to protest, to tell them you didn’t want to be a burden, that you could handle it on your own, but the words caught in your throat. No one was waiting for an answer anyway, they had already decided that this was gonna happen.
After training, you found yourself sat in a quiet hotel conference room with your open laptop and a mess of notebooks. And surrounding you, like a little academic Avengers squad ,lol, were half the Lionesses. They were going through your workbooks, your notes and taking their own notes on where you needed help and what they needed to double check before explaining it to you.
Lucy Bronze was up first, scooting her chair next to you with the confidence of someone who absolutely understood algebra.
“Right then,” she said. “Quadratics. Let's go. These used to be my jam before I ran off to play football full-time.”
You gave her a disbelieving look.
“No, seriously,” Lucy insisted. “I did maths A-level. You think I just run around tackling people for fun?” You chuckled. The first real one in days.
Lucy took over an hour to make you understand maths, but once you had done all the assignments she corrected them and nodded. You somehow had done it.
Next came Niamh Charles, who pounced on your history notes with absolute glee.
“I love this topic,” she said, flipping through your half-finished essay. “This is the Henry VIII one, yeah? Did you know Anne Boleyn’s ghost is supposed to haunt the Tower of London?”
You stared at her, like she was a crazy person.
“She was decapitated,” Niamh added brightly, like it was the fun part, while still going through your notes.
You burst out laughing, startling yourself and everyone else with the sound. But the others joined in. She began to quiz you on history and told the facts to you like a story so you could remember them in detail. It helped a lot,
Once Niamh and Lucy had left Lotte wandered in, her laptop under her arm, glasses sliding down her nose. She glanced at your English essay and asked gently. “Do you want help organising it? I write a lot in my free time, I can show you how I outline if that helps.”
You nodded, and she smiled. Her voice was soft, non-judgmental, and she didn’t take over, just asked questions, suggested small edits, helped you see that maybe, maybe, you weren’t as hopeless as your brain had convinced you. Leah sat nearby and helped every now and then when you were discussing which word to use.
Lotte left you again, when you were done with English and that's when Hannah peeked in with Lucy again.
“Spanish session?” Hannah asked, holding up a textbook. “I grew up in Spain, remember?”
“I lived there when I played for Barça.” Lucy added with a shrug. “We’ve got you covered, chica.”
You looked at the two of them, then at your open Spanish homework… and actually smiled.
“You’re serious?”
"Definitely." Hannah gave you a grin.
And they did, the entire session was in Spanish which made your brain feel fried, but it helped you actually start speaking Spanish. Bad Spanish, but at least you were practicing. They corrected your pronunciation and helped you when you were unsure about what grammar to use.
After that day the two would often chat with you in Spanish just so you would practice and get better… and you actually did. You started to pick up on Spanish words from context and you could easily switch back and forth.
Meanwhile Ella and Alessia, who Leah hadn't trusted to actually help you studying or help you keep focused, kept a steady stream of snacks and drinks coming, occasionally tossing you encouragement.
“You’re smashing it, kid.” Ella whispered as she dropped off a new highlighter and a can of Fanta. “Proper star student vibes.”
“You look less like you want to launch your laptop out the window.” Alessia added. “We’re counting that as progress.”
You rolled your eyes at both of them, but the warmth in your chest stayed as you listened to Lucy and Hannah argue in quick Spanish where you barely understood a word.
It took the whole afternoon, but you did it. Between all the different people helping you with different subjects you actually managed to study. And even though you sometimes just begged for them to do it, Leah just gave them a glare and didn't let them. She was a stern Captain especially when it came to you and your education.
You handed in all missing assignments that evening. Leah helped you write a formal apology for your teachers where you explained that between the stress in preparing for the Euros you had forgotten to send them in, but they should be all up to date and correct now.
A few weeks later after you had sat your end of term exams you finally got your results back. You stared at the email on your phone, heart pounding like it was a final. If the grades were too low you'd very likely wouldn't be allowed to go back to camp.
Subject: End-of-Term Results – Final Grades Attached
Your stomach twisted as you tapped the attachment open. You half expected the worst. At the half-term you had mostly 5, 4 and 3. On the old GCSE grading scale that meant you mostly had D’s and a few C’s. You were just so passing and everyone was putting pressure on you to get your grades up, but nobody had helped you.
You braced yourself to see a stream of red text, warnings, disappointment. But then it finally loaded.
English Literature: 8
Spanish: 9
History: 8
Geography: 7
Social Sciences: 7
PE: 9
Maths: 5
Biology: 6
Chemistry: 5
Physics: 5
Philosophy: 7
Music: 7
You blinked, overwhelmed. You didn't even get a single D. You had passed every single exam. All C’s and above even tons of A's. You felt tears bubbling up in your eyes as you felt relief. Then you read it all again..Then let out a sound halfway between a gasp and a laugh.
The England group chat was the obvious next step. You took a picture of your grade slip and shyly sent it in. You hesitated as you typed:
Y/N:
> got my results back.
> No D’s, mostly B’s and A’s.
There was a pause in the chat, you weren't sure if it was because they're all way busier than you or if they were in shock.
And then, chaos set in.
Ella 💅:
> C is for CHAMPION 🥳
Lucy 🧠:
> We’ll take that. You *survived* physics, that’s the win.
> (Also, you’re welcome.)
Lotte ✍️:
> A in English 🥹🥹 so proud of you, little one.
Niamh 👻:
> A IN HISTORY YOU HISTORICAL QUEEN 💂♀️
Leah 🫡:
> I hope you know how proud we all are.
> And not because of the grades — because you kept going and worked hard.
Hannah 🇪🇸:
> A+ in Spanish? Me and Lucy will take the credit for that one 😌
Alessia 🐶:
> Do we get to throw her a party now or what???
Ella 💅:
> Already got balloons for the next camp. Can we order pizza too Leah?
Leah 🫡:
> yeah I can ask Sarina.
> but only if you all continue helping Y/N with her school stuff. School is important.
You smiled a bit as you texted a thumbs up back and looked back at your grade slip. You knew your mum wouldn't care. She always was mad with you, regardless of what you did. But these women were so proud of your hard work and your grades.
Authors note: I am not from England and this is the grading scale I found when I googled current grading scales in the UK... If it's wrong please tell me and I'll correct it.
Summary: The Lionesses have just won the 2025 Euros. You're in the stands. You pull a Hardersson.
Warnings: none?
Masterlist
The stadium roared with the sound of history. Red and white confetti rained from the rafters, and the scoreboard above St. Jakob Park flashed its final declaration: England had won its second Euros. After 120 minutes and a penalty shootout, the Lionesses had done it again. Euro 2025 was theirs. They were the European champions.
Grace Clinton stood in the center of the pitch, heart pounding beneath her jersey, hands gripping the gold medal around her neck. Her cheeks were streaked with sweat and mascara, but her grin stretched ear to ear. The air buzzed with electricity, the kind that only came with legacy-making nights. Sweet Caroline was playing in the background as everyone celebrated. And it was so crazy.
The team surged around her, screaming, hugging, collapsing in disbelief. Hannah Hampton had tackled Chloe Kelly,, moments after the final whistle, shrieking into her shoulder. Lucy Bronze had hoisted her off her feet in celebration, even though she has a broken Tibia. Ella Toone was crying, this was her first tournament since her dad had died, and what only the girls knew, her grandma had died just this morning. And Leah Williamson, captain again after her long injury return, stood a few paces away with tears in her eyes, watching her girls soak in the moment. Leah was the first English captain to lead her team to back-to-back Euro wins.
Grace looked up into the stands, eyes scanning through the blur of flashing lights and waving flags. There you were-Y/n. Her popstar. Her girlfriend. Her person. Front row, half hidden beneath a stupid bucket hat and sunglasses, even though it was night. But Grace would have known that silhouette anywhere. She would've recognized you in complete darkness with closed eyes, just because it was you.
You had been there for every match, blending into crowds, slipping through back entrances, cheering quietly. Always at every single game you wore her jersey. Clinton proudly on your back. After eighteen months of love, of long-distance, of tour buses and training camps. Eighteen months of secret glances and disguised dates. Eighteen months of being hers in every way - except the public one.
Not anymore.
A hand touched her shoulder. Leah.
"She’s waiting for you.” she said softly.
Grace swallowed hard. "Is it stupid?"
Leah shook her head. "It’s brave. And it’s real."
Alessia passed by and wrapped an arm around both of them. "Go, before Lucy does it for you."
Lucy Bronze was standing not far off, smirking knowingly. When their eyes met, she gave Grace a subtle nod.
Grace nodded back. Then she took a deep breath, pushed past the camera crews and the edge of the pitch, and walked toward the stands.
Time slowed. The world faded. All she could see was you rising to your feet, surprise blooming across your face. Grace grinned and reached up as you stepped down toward the pitch barrier.
"Hi." Grace said.
"You’re incredible." You breathed. "You just won the Euros."
"Yeah.” Grace whispered, her hand sliding around the back of her neck. "But this is the bit I’ve been waiting for."
And then she kissed you
It wasn’t hurried or shy. It wasn’t dramatic either. It was just right. The type of kiss where everything feels right and you feel your toes curl. Where you didn't want her to ever let go. It felt so right to be in her arms. Especially after this moment. After your girlfriend won her first major tournament.
Camera shutters clicked like gunfire. Somewhere, a gasp rippled through the crowd. But louder still were the cheers. You pulled apart slowly, foreheads resting together, the chaos of the Stadium storming around you.
"Are you sure?" You whispered against her lips, after all she hadn't been publicly out before.
"I’ve never been more sure of anything."
Social media exploded like wildfire.
Within minutes, clips of the kiss were plastered across every major platform. “Grace Clinton Comes Out in Post-Euros Victory Moment” blazed across sports sites and news tickers alike. Fans flooded timelines with heart emojis, rainbow flags, and screaming reactions. TikTok edits popped up faster than Grace could blink, some set to your own songs, others cut into slow-mo montages that turned the kiss into a movie climax. Within the hour, #GraceAndY/N was trending in over a dozen countries.
Grace’s phone vibrated nonstop in her hand. Notifications stacked like confetti, mentions, reposts, stories, tags. A teammate sent her a screenshot of their kiss on BBC Sport with the caption: “ICONIC BEHAVIOUR”. Another had clipped a reel where the moment was slowed down and set to a romantic ballad from your last album. Someone even made fanart already.
But the chaos of the online world faded as Grace walked into the locker room, your hand still in hers.
The air inside was thick with champagne spray and the smell of sweat and grass. Boots thudded against benches, jerseys were half-hung and half-tossed, and someone had taken control of the speaker, blasting girl power anthems at full volume. The trophy sat proudly on the center table, glinting under the harsh fluorescent lights.
As soon as the girls saw Grace and you enter together, a new round of cheers erupted.
Alessia Russo let out a whoop and mock-bowed towards you. “Royalty has entered!”
You laugh cheeks pink but eyes shining with pride.
“Alright, alright,” Grace said, blushing, but beaming too.
Ella Toone jogged over, grinning, and handed Grace a half-drunk Lucozade. “About time,” she said, giving her a one-armed hug.
Alessia leaned against a locker, shaking her head. “We’ve had a team bet going since we met last February.”
“What?” Grace blinked. “You didn’t.”
“Oh, we did.” Alessia pointed at Leah. “She picked the World Cup. Lost a tenner.”
Leah, lounging in her kit and sipping from a water bottle, just shrugged. “Worth it.”
Lucy Bronze crossed the room, her usual calm presence steadying the chaos. She slung an arm around Grace’s shoulder, then gave you a long, assessing look. And then she smiled.
“Proud of you, kid,” she said, squeezing Grace gently. Then, turning to you, she added, “You too. Takes guts, being here.”
You nodded, your voice soft. “I wouldn’t have missed it for anything.”
Grace and you found a spot on the bench, tucked in between jerseys and boots and glory. Grace leaned back against the cool wall, letting the noise wash over her. You rested your head on Grace’s shoulder, fingers still laced with hers.
That night you and Grace decided to post somethings on Instagram. She posted about the celebration with her teammates and one picture of you guys.
graceclinton_x: 18 months and one Euros trophy later. Grateful for my team, my friends and my darling y/n.
Alessia: so proud of you Grace.
-> graceclinton_x: you just want the free concert stuff.
-> ellatoone: can't blame us can you?
Your post was more personal, way more personal, you had chosen three pictures of you guys together. One where you had done Grace's makeup for a night out, one in your home studio and one where you cooked while she sat on the counter and watched. Intimate little snippets into your love life.
Y/n Y/LN: Proud of you. Proud of the Lionesses. And proud of us. I love you Gracie. 18 months and forever to go.
Leahwilliamsonn: about damn time.
Liked by Y/N Y/LN ❤️
lucybronze: I can finally stop pretending I don't know who she is.
England: love always wins.💞🥇
The night ended with the two of you curled up on the hotel room couch, she still in kit, you in one of her hoodies, watching the highlights play over and over again. Grace’s head rested on your shoulder, fingers laced tightly together. You were holding her and rubbing her back. Wanting to pour some love into her tired body. After all she has played a Euros final and had gotten fouled a few times.
"You know this changes everything," you said quietly.
Grace nodded. "Good. I think this is just the beginning."
You nod smiling. "I’ve been waiting a long time to sing about you."
Grace turned to you, heart full. "As long as you only use me in your music videos."
You just laugh and kiss her head. "Who else would I use? I only want to sing my love songs to you Gracie."
Summary: you hated birthdays for as long as you can remember. For the first time they show you why birthdays can be nice.
Warning: Toxic family mentioned.
Masterlist
this was request 1/3 by an anon hope whoever asked for it likes it. The other 2 will follow as soon as I have them done.
You didn’t expect anyone to remember. Nobody ever did. Not your mum, your dad, or any of your older brothers. The 7th of August was just a random day. Often an annoyingly hot day, but most importantly—just a day.
So this year, when you found out you’d be at international camp during August, you didn’t mind. Of course, it would be weird not being home, but then again, it wasn’t a big deal. It’s not like it had ever been a big deal before.
So you didn’t expect the team to know. It wasn’t like you told them. Not like you posted anything. Not like you ever made a big deal out of it—not anymore.
It was just a date. A number. A reminder, really.
Sixteen. You were sixteen today. Almost an adult and finally ready to buy your own beer legally—not that you’d tell Leah that. Your captain wasn’t very fond of your teenage escapades anyway.
You sat up slowly in the stiff white sheets of the hotel bed, the silence of the early morning settling heavily on your chest. The room was quiet; your roommate had left early for physio, leaving you alone with your thoughts. You stared at the ceiling for a moment too long, then swung your legs over the edge of the bed. What else were you supposed to do? Besides, it was fine. It happened every year. It was just a day.
It was fine. You’d get through the day. You always did.
You got dressed in your training gear, pulled your hoodie over your head, and tried to keep your breathing even. It was just another day at camp. Another day pretending you weren’t waiting for a text that wouldn’t come. Not from your mum. Not from your dad. Not from your brothers—who had probably forgotten, like they always did. Forgotten you existed too, probably, considering not one of them had texted you in the two months since you joined Arsenal.
There was a worse alternative, but you didn’t want to imagine it. Still, you always did. Every single day.
Maybe they all remembered… and just didn’t care.
But honestly, why would they? You had been the unplanned girl after two boys when they’d been hoping for a third. You hadn’t been wanted, and so you just existed on the periphery of their awareness.
Birthdays in your house had always meant shouting. Arguments over dinner. Passive-aggressive gifts. Guilt-tripping calls from relatives you didn’t even know. Tears in the bathroom while everyone else sang a forced “Happy Birthday” through gritted teeth.
The last few years, you’d stopped trying. It was easier that way. Birthdays weren’t a big deal.
Just a date on an office calendar somewhere. One year closer to being a grown-up. One year closer to being on your own.
You grabbed your boots and your water bottle and headed out of the room, shoulders hunched, head down.
You forced yourself to have no expectations. That was the key. It was just a normal day.
You walked into the breakfast room quietly, scanning for a seat at the far end where no one would notice the slight tremble in your hands. You’d already picked up your food and were walking toward a table when suddenly—
“Morning, birthday girl,” Keira said casually as she passed by, balancing a tray with two coffees.
You froze for a second.
Your stomach dropped like you’d just been caught doing something wrong.
“…What?”
But Keira was already gone, sliding into a chair beside Leah and grinning like nothing had happened.
Birthday girl.
She couldn’t mean…? No. Must be a coincidence. Maybe she said that to everyone. Maybe she was joking.
So you kept walking.
“Hey, Y/N,” Alessia said when you reached the table. Her voice was soft and sleepy, eyes gentle. “You sleep okay?”
You nodded quickly. “Yeah. Fine.”
Her eyes lingered on you for a moment, like she was reading something behind your words, but she let it go.
“Good. You’re with me in the rondos later, yeah?”
“Okay.”
You grabbed some toast you weren’t hungry for and made your way to a seat, cheeks warm and hands clammy. Something felt off. Like people were looking at you, glancing over their shoulders. But every time you looked up, they were just… eating. Talking. Laughing. Normal. You tried to shake it off.
Just paranoia. Just your brain was lying to you again.
You’re fine. Everything was fine.
You were good in training that day.
Focused. Sharp. Maybe a little too sharp, like your brain had decided that if your heart was going to feel heavy, then your feet had better move faster to compensate.
You chased down every ball, nailed every first touch, hit the corners with your shots like your life depended on it. And maybe it did. Maybe proving yourself on the pitch was the only thing keeping you upright.
Sarina even gave you a nod during shooting drills. “Well done, Y/N. Keep it up.”
You blinked at her for a second too long, then quickly looked away, your cheeks heating. Praise always caught you off guard. You never knew what to do with it. It felt strange, like wearing someone else’s coat. Warm, but unfamiliar. Not quite yours.
Still, you held on to it like a secret. A small light in your pocket.
From the corner of your eye, you caught Alessia watching you. Her arms were folded across her chest, expression unreadable at first, until her eyebrows softened just slightly.
Not judging.
Just… watching. Concerned. Protective, maybe.
You weren’t sure which was worse: being ignored completely, or being seen like that… it made you unsure and a bit uncomfortable with how easy she could read you. But that was just Alessia. She was such a warm and sweet girl and she could read you like she had known you since birth. It was hard to keep a secret from her.
When training wrapped up and the girls started drifting off toward the changing rooms in pairs and small clusters, Alessia didn’t leave with them. She waited, her eyes narrowed a bit, the way she always did when she was trying to figure out what was going on behind your eyes. You tried to pretend you didn’t notice, but she jogged up beside you anyway, matching your pace.
“You alright?” she asked, her voice light but not careless.
You nodded. Too quickly.
“Just tired,” you said, eyes locked on the grass in front of your feet. You knew better than to look her in the eye. Alessia always saw too much when you did. It was like she could read your soul. Leah had once said it was cause you're so similar in many ways but you weren't sure. Alessia was such a good and perfect person and you were a constant mess.
She nudged your shoulder gently. Not enough to throw you off balance, just a friendly nudge to remind you she's here.
“If you need anything… you can always come to me, yeah?”
Your throat tightened. You could feel the words forming ‘thank you’ or ‘I’m fine’ or maybe even ‘please don’t be kind to me right now because I don’t know what to do with it’, but none of them made it out. So you just nodded again. A tiny, pathetic nod.
And she didn’t push. Didn’t press. Alessia never did. She was good like that. She never forced you to tell her but she hovered nearby till the inevitable breakdown happened.
You were lying on your bed again, headphones in, eyes fixed on the ceiling. Music played in your ears, but you weren’t really listening. Not to the lyrics, not to the beat. It was just noise, something to fill the silence. Something to drown out the thoughts
Then came the knock. When you didn't open immediately three soft, hesitant taps followed. You immediately knew it was Alessia.
You pulled your headphones down, heart thudding a little too fast. “Yeah?”
“Hey, Y/N? Can you come down to the meeting room real quick?” Alessia’s voice floated through the door, light, casual, like this was just another team briefing. “Sarina wants to go over a couple plays with you.”
You blinked up at the ceiling. Plays? At this time? “…Okay.” you called back, your voice dry, hoarse from not having spoken to anyone since training ended.
You slid off the bed, tugged your hoodie back over your head, and rubbed at your eyes just in case. Then you stepped into the hallway, quiet and unsure, following the familiar path toward the meeting room. Walking quietly to Alessia, who was also quiet, she seemed to understand that you weren't in the mood today.
You had no idea what you were walking into.
When you pushed the door open, the lights flicked on, and everything stopped. You froze in the doorway, halfway through a breath that caught in your chest.
There was a cake on the table. Not massive, not over-the-top. Just… sweet. Thoughtful. A modest round cake with icing and your name piped neatly across the top. Cupcakes sat in neat little rows beside it, tucked into Lionesses-themed wrappers, the team crest printed on tiny flags stuck into the frosting.
There were balloons tied to the chairs. A handmade card resting upright beside the cake, your name in the middle, surrounded by scribbled hearts and messy signatures.
Confetti shimmered faintly on the floor like stars.
And like thirty pairs of eyes turned toward you, all of them smiling widely and excited.
“SURPRISE!”
You didn’t move. Your brain couldn’t process it.
You just… stood there. Rooted to the spot. Eyes wide, darting from the balloons to the cake, to the girls all gathered in a semi-circle around the table. Grace was already half-laughing at your stunned expression. Esme was holding up her phone, clearly filming the moment. Ella was waving a sparkler in your direction, thankfully unlit.
And off to the side, quiet and calm, stood Alessia. Her hands were tucked into the sleeves of her hoodie. Her smile was soft, gentle, like she knew this might be too much.
You blinked. Once.
Then again.
“Happy birthday, Y/N,” someone said from the crowd. Sarina, maybe. Or Alex. It didn’t register properly. The words didn’t land as you stood there in shock.
It was too much. Too loud. Too colourful. Too kind.
Your mouth opened, but nothing came out. The air in the room shifted, turned thick and heavy, pressing against your chest until your breath stuttered.
You didn’t know what to do. Didn’t know how to accept this.
And then a warm hand rested lightly on your back. Warm. Familiar.
Alessia.
“You okay?” she murmured, voice barely audible over the rustling and whispers around you. You tried to answer. You really did. You even tried to smile.
But the edges of your mouth crumbled before they lifted. The pressure behind your eyes burned hotter, sharper, and then… “I—” you whispered, voice barely there.
And that was all it took.
The tears came fast. No warning. No drama. Just there, slipping silently down your cheeks. Your hands flew up to cover your face as your shoulders started to shake.
The room went silent in an instant.
Someone whispered. “Shit… did we do something wrong?”
But Alessia didn’t leave your side. She stepped in without hesitation, guiding you gently into the room, away from the doorway. Her arms came around your shoulders, trying to calm you before you could spiral completely.
“It’s okay.” she whispered, her lips close to your ear. “You’re alright. Just breathe. You’re safe.” You gripped the front of her hoodie like a lifeline, knuckles white. Your whole body trembled.
“I’m sorry.” you choked out. “I’m—I didn’t mean to cry—”
“Hey.” Alessia pulled back just enough to cup your face, her thumbs brushing the tears away like they didn’t scare her at all. “Don’t say sorry. Ever. Cry as much as you need.”
You squeezed your eyes shut, throat aching. “No one’s ever done anything like this. Not for me anyway. Not really.”
The words hit the air like broken glass. Painful. Bare. The whole team looks a bit unsure and like it pained them to hear it. Alessia’s expression softened, heartbreak written across every gentle line of her face.
“Well, we do things differently around here.” she said quietly. “You’re part of us now. And we take care of each other.”
Someone stepped in beside her, Leah, her voice low and kind. “We just wanted you to know how much we love having you here. You’ve been amazing.”
“We were gonna sing.” Lucy added “But figured you’d hate that.”
It cracked something in you. A blubbering, watery laugh slipped out, and they all smiled at the sound.
“Come sit down,” Alessia said, keeping a hand on your back as she led you toward the table.
You moved like you were dreaming. Dazed. Light-headed. You sank into the chair, and someone placed a cupcake in front of you with a single candle lit.
“We figured sixteen candles might be a fire hazard.” Keira teased from across the room.
This time, your laugh was real.
“Make a wish.” Ella said softly.You hesitated.
Then you closed your eyes. You didn’t wish for anything big. Not for trophies or fame or even for your parents to text. Just… maybe for this not to be a dream. For this warmth to last. For this feeling to stay. And when you opened your eyes again, they were still there. Smiling warmly… Alessia was still theren, still watching you, her hand safely on your back, like she was your big sister.
Maybe birthdays aren’t so bad… not when they’re like this.
