summary: on international break- a video circulates online that will cause your girlfriend, and club teammates, to be concerned
warnings: mentions of abuse, angst
on international break, you clashed with your coach over a situation.
you’ve realized that your national team coach was being overly aggressive towards some of the younger players– the 18 to 22 year old ones.
as the captain, you gave them a safe space to talk to you about it. you had the platform– as a 2020 ballon d’or winner, and 2 time champions league winner– to speak up about any situation that is bothering you.
even if that might piss off the “higher ups” of your national team.
after seeing your coach nearly scream, not yell, but scream at one of the youngsters on the team for not making a header during an international friendly.. you had enough.
you pulled your coach to the side and confronted him at halftime.
“hey, why did you scream at her over the failed set piece? its her debut?”
“don’t question me about my corrections.” he mumbled, looking away from you and waving at another staff member yards away.
“i will! you can’t scream at the players about their mistakes, it's affecting the team chemistry and they need to be nurtured into having experience– not screamed at. you can see that they’re SCARED to even come to training because of this.” you snapped.
this has happened for long enough.
little did you know, a few people in the distance were recording this interaction between your coach and you.
what shocked them was when the coach grabbed your arm, aggressively, and pulled you close to him so you’re just 3 feet from the left side of his body.
he squeezed your arm, purposely, which caused your face to squeeze as his physical assault caught you off guard.
“listen, you do NOT question me about my coaching! maybe if she scored that, she wouldn’t have been punished!” he said through clenched teeth, staring at you with darkened eyes and a vein nearly popping out of his forehead.
realizing that you wouldn’t let him do this to you, you smacked his hand off of your arm and sprinted off– completely shocked that he would do that to you.
the people who recorded the interaction sent the video to all news publications afterwards– the new york times, bbc, foxsports, tmz, 433– you name it.
at the end of the game, where you were benched after that confrontation before the start of the second half, everyone booed the coach.
everyone was confused– even you. at first, you assumed that your own country was booing you guys. that didn’t make sense– you guys won 3-2.
once you guys were in the dressing room, all of the fifa officials took your coach away to talk to him.
you had no idea that people recorded that assault that happened to you. some of your teammates noticed the red mark on your arm and the quietness of your voice– so they figured it had to do with the coach.
“y/n..” you turn around to see the young midfielder behind you with a sad smile.
the same 17 year old girl you defended after she was screamed over a missed header.
“hey! congrats on today.” you pulled her into a soft hug, rubbed her upper back before pulling away.
“thank you.” she smiled.
you couldn’t resent her for the moment between the coach and you– he is the problem not her.
when the national team got on the bus, the coach wasn’t there. the nice assistant coach (who has fallen to the main coaches abuse too) took his place.
your eyebrows knitted together as you saw a notification from your barcelona teammate and close friend– alexia.
ale
WHAT THE FUCK?
ale
are you okay?!!
y/n
i am?
y/n
what's going on!?
ale
there’s a video on the internet
alex
instagram.com/justwomensports….
when you clicked on the link, your face turned pale.
many people have recorded the moment between the coach and you from hours before.
you looked strong at first, until he grabbed your arm. the terrified look on your face was present until you smacked his arm away.
to say that the media was in an outrage– that would be an understatement.
almost every news publication has posted about it. there was no possible way that the coach wouldn’t be sacked for the amount of negative attention this has brought.
you didn’t want to imagine how aitana, your girlfriend, is reacting to the situation– as she keeps calling you over-and-over again.
y/n
tana, i’ll call you once i’m back in the hotel. i will explain.
aitana
i should kill him
aitana
are you okay mi amor?
y/n
i don’t know
y/n
i think my mind is trying to supress it, but i can’t explain how i feel
aitana
please call me asap
when you clicked off of your imessages– mapi texted you in the groupchat between ingrid, her, and you.
mapi
y/n are you active?
y/n
yes, hi!
mapi
do you want me to kill that pos?
you giggle at the message- not because you want to see him dead- but the barcelona girls have their extreme way with defending their loved ones.
ingrid
maybe you shouldn’t threaten ppl mapi
ingrid
especially not now
ingrid
y/n please tell me you’re okay
mapi
or will be okay?
y/n
i don’t know how to feel about it
y/n
it happened so fast
y/n
i think my brain isn’t trying to process it. i’m scared
ingrid
call aitana
y/n
i am once i’m back in the hotel, i’m on the bus with the team right now.
after turning your phone off and looking at your phone, your national teammates on the bus were very quiet.
as they’re scrolling on their phones– they’re understanding why the mean coach isn’t on the bus anymore.
your best friend on your national team taps your shoulder and you look over at her, seeing that she finished watching the video.
“WHAT THE FUCK?” she mumbles very quietly as she gives you a heartbroken look.
“when did this happen?” she asked.
“at halftime, remember when i had to pull him outside of the dressing room to talk to him..” you say.
your best friend frowns before pulling your head into her body for a hug.
“is this why you were benched once the game started again?” she whispers.
“i believe so.”
one thing that everyone knew– your girlfriend in spain wasn’t going to let *that* slide.
the next day-- your 2023 ballon d’or winner girlfriend scored a goal in a game against another country.. she held up two fingers on her left hand and one finger on her right, dedicating her golozo for you. since you wore the number 12 on your club and national teams.
next, an important post on instagram spoke up about abuse in the community. a post that went viral alongside your situation.
aitana was quick to repost it on her story– bringing more support for you as you struggled with that traumatic moment.
before you came back to barcelona a week later, you told the “higher-ups” of your national team that if your coach stays, you would retire from international football.
you are 24 years old, so that is an extreme ultimatum.
they couldn’t afford to lose you, one of the best players in the world.
the coach was sacked, charged for assault, and you are happy about it.
in barcelona, most of the girls came to your apartment to comfort you.
alexia, her girlfriend olga, ingrid, mapi, esmee, fridolina, patri, caroline, marta, and jana were all there to give you support.
you cried for the first time about it since the incident occurred. never in your life were you treated that way.
once the girls left your house hours later, aitana stayed. well– you guys lived together so it wasn’t an option for her to leave.
with aitana, you told more details about the things you’ve seen the coach do to the team. the way he ruined the chemistry and motivation of the girls is something you’re prepared to fix with the new coach coming onto the national team.
she cuddles you and plays with your hair as you talk. refusing to leave your side for a while.
the spanish national team had their own problems, which you know about, so aitana is able to help you as you help her through her problems too.
aitana and your club teammates vows to never let someone hurt you like that again.
authors note: this has been in my drafts for over a month.
my master list is linked here if you want to read more fics <3
A copa acabou galera, é isso. Bora voltar para rotina de sempre e torcer que ano que vem a seleção feminina faça melhor e traga o primeiro título para nós
summary: you're with her now, but you've known of her for longer than that.
warnings: long chapter since I have to split this up into three parts, changing things that happened irl just a tiny bit for the plot of this, google translated language.
the pathway of your career was never simple, or original.
growing up in the states, you participated in many youth programs. sacrificing a chance at a normal childhood, you took the chance to fulfill your 5-year-old self's dream.
before you know it, you’d grow up to be the best teenager in the country– in terms of soccer.
just before going into high-school, you were called up for the usynt for the first time. your parents wanted to see you happy, so you were sent into homeschooling.
it wasn’t easy leaving public-school. you barely had time for your non-soccer playing friends and eventually– you seemed to forget about them. your friends and teammates on your club and national teams were your new priority.
breaking records on the national level, it seemed like the youth team was too easy for you.
and then 2018 came along, when you were 16 years ol–
well, not yet. just a day before your 16th birthday, in January 2018, you were having your debut on the uswnt.
against denmark, you were thrown into the game in the 50th minute, not long after halftime. being an attacking midfielder, you were expected to contribute to any attack or opportunity given for you.
playing with the current world champions intimidated you. your new mentor, christen press, noticed this when your leg and foot tapped against the grass as the both of you waited to get subbed in.
“hey! you gotta relax.” christen whispers over the crowd, her tone stricter than usual which causes your leg to stop tapping.
a goal came from mallory pugh that same second, so you were distracted for a few seconds celebrating.
luckily, this gave you enough time to take deep breaths.. something your sports therapist recommended for situations like this.
“i will, sorry.” you quickly spoke after, moving your tongue to press on the inside of your cheek. you didn’t notice how nervous you could’ve looked from the outside.
“you don’t need to apologize, you’ll do great i promise!” she patted your upper back a few times before the ref blew the whistle for the subs.
after the whistle blew in the 93rd minute, you breathed a huge sigh of relief. most of your older teammates ran to your side to congratulate your contributions to the 5-1 win.
1 goal and one assist on your senior team debut didn’t happen to players everyday, especially to newly 16 year olds.
a year later, after 16 more caps, happy tears ran out of your eyes when your coach, jill, called you.
this wasn’t too long after you made your professional club debut for sky blue fc, or what is now referred to as gotham fc. jill let you know that you were going to the world cup!
now being 17 years old, you were the youngest person on the uswnt roster to play in the women's world cup ever.
being referred to as “baby blue” by the rest of the team, due to your age and the club you play for, they all made an effort to make sure that you had the best experience for your first world cup.
you attached yourself to christen, megan, alex and tobin when it came down to needing mentors to guide you in france– and your closest friends mallory, tierna, and rose.
in the football world, you’re treated like an adult. something you struggled with.
your parents, siblings, and other relatives came to france to support you on your journey– but due to the everyday training (twice a day), media days, strict meal plans, and mental stress before the tournament– you couldn’t see them at all.
thankfully, they were able to see you along with the rest of the world during the group stages.
against thailand, you scored a goal with three assists after you were substituted in the 60th minute. the 13-0 win gave you a rush that would last throughout the entire tournament.
you didn’t play against chile, or sweden. sitting on the bench and observing your team was enough for you though– they’ll call you whenever they need you.
one moment throughout the tournament, there was a four day break between the group stages and the round of 16.
adidas, the brand you chose to sign for, wanted to do a photoshoot with many internationals who signed their brand. the world cup is the only chance they’ll be able to do this collaboration– and with fifa's approval– over 20 players from different countries are there in a big conference room, ready to get their picture taken.
standing in the red uswnt kit, you felt intimidated– unaware that you could’ve been the most intimidating.
unfortunately for you, lindsey and you were the only americans at this photoshoot. you attached yourself to the blonde before she was pulled away by staff. this left you alone sitting on a random chair– at a random table.
(i know giulia gwinn is signed for nike, but pretend she is signed to adidas for the plot)
“um– hey?” a girl your age– or maybe a bit older– with blonde hair stands in front of you with a confused, yet amused, expression.
your eyebrows knit together as you respond back with a smile, “hi!”
before the blonde could say anything, you turn your head to see a table card in the middle of the circle table. its labeled under germany so your eyes widened before you quickly stood up from your chair.
“oh my goodness i’m sorry– i just found a random seat to sit in because i’m bored.” you talk a bit more than necessary, afraid that you did something disrespectful.
“its totally okay– i’ve been wandering around myself– i’m giulia!” she reaches her hand out, her german accent strong.
you reach your hand out to meet hers, “i’m y/n. i’m with the us team.”
giulia smiles, “i know– its hard to not notice the current world champs in the room.”
you smile, your social anxiety fades as you engage in a conversation with the german footballer.
“so when are you getting your pictures done?” giulia asks, wanting to continue the conversation with you.
“oh i had my individuals and duo pictures with horan done earlier– i’m just waiting for the big group photo we have to take in–” you check your apple watch, “20 minutes.”
“oh same!” giulia says, looking down at your apple watch too, seeing that it's 11:40am.
“congratulations on getting on top of group B, i watched a little bit of the game during my lunch break yesterday!” you compliment as you cross your arms naturally.
“thank you! it wasn’t easy.” giulia smiles.
“i feel you.” you relate.
before you could talk to giulia more, another girl jogs up towards the two of you.
she is wearing the same german kit as giulia, so you know she is her national teammate. she's taller than you, brunette, and you figure that she has short hair, since her hair was tied up in a small bun.
the brunette looked very cute, but you brushed that thought aside. you have no idea what her name is and you need to put all of your focus on the world cup.
“Da bist du ja! Ich habe dich gesucht, aber ich sehe, du hast einen neuen Freund gefunden.“ (There you are! I've been looking for you, but I see you've found a new friend.) the brunette nudges giulia’s shoulder, looking at her before looking at you with curiousity.
“relax! this is y/n.” giulia waves her hand towards you.
“hey.” is all you say, smiling at the cute girl.
“hey.” she responds, smiling with the same cheeky smile you had.
“wer ist das? sie ist süß” (who is that? she is cute) the brunette says to giulia. you didn’t understand german, but you could tell that she was asking a question through the tone of her voice.
giulia rolls her eyes before giggling,
“this is y/n, like i told you. she plays for the united states.” giulia responds in english, which you’re grateful for. the girl looked you up and down for a few seconds before talking to giulia in german again.
over giulia’s shoulder, just 20 feet behind her, you see horan waving her hand for you to come to her. you look back at the german girls, hating to cut them off from their conversation.
“sorry girls but i have to go. it was so nice meeting you giulia!” you quickly hug giulia, and she hugs you back tightly before you walk away.
ten days later-- when jill called for you to warm up in the final against the netherlands, your legs felt like pencil lead that could’ve snapped in half.
in the 75th minute, the united states were up by 2. however, the euro champions against you had a point to prove. they weren’t going to let themselves lose the world cup without a fight.
tobin heath got injured during the semi-finals and doctors made it clear that she couldn’t play the full 90 minutes in the final, so jill made the last decision to call you up.
every commentator on broadcasts, radio stations, and television networks were wondering why jill was putting you– a seventeen year old with no world cup experience– over people like carli lloyd who's on the bench.
you couldn’t make a single mistake on the pitch. your mind repeated that sentence back to you as you warmed up with sprints and stretches on the sidelines.
five minutes go by and you’re on the pitch. focusing on the ball, you made beautiful passes to the forwards and midfielders around you.
when your eyes were on the ball, it was distracting from the neverending stadium around you.
blocking out the noise of the crowd and the pressure of the moment, the 83rd minute comes along. krieger pushes the ball away from a dutch forward and launches the ball in the air towards rose lavelle, the girl who scored the second goal moments before.
rose, being closed in by dutch defenders, passed the ball behind her to kelley o’hara. kelley saw you were free and there was open space between you and her, so she launched the ball towards you.
this was your chance. usually, you never tried to seek personal glory. however, something changed when that ball hit your ivory colored cleat.
your feet take the ball towards the goal. veenendaal, the dutch goalkeeper, sets herself up in a ready position as she sees her defenders failing to take the ball from you.
as you race closer to the goal, the crowd gets louder. the orange defenders close in but you dribble around them effortlessly, a skill uswnt fans love seeing from your younger self.
an oranje defender hit your body from the left side but it was too late. your foot was angled on the left side of the ball, making the outside of your right foot clear to launch a powerful shot at the goal.
veenendaal dived a second too late, the ball hit the lower corner of the net, going in for the third goal of the world cup final.
you didn’t take a moment to process your thoughts before you lifted yourself off of the grass and sprinted towards the corner of the pitch, the same corner raphinoe celebrated the first goal at an hour before.
your hands were spread out wide as tears threatened to pour out of your eyes in joy. the look of happiness that you’ve never felt until now.
“Y/N L/N THE YOUNGEST GOALSCORER IN A WORLD CUP FINAL!!” commentators screamed on television broadcasts as your teammates, both on and off of the pitch, ran to you and squeezed your adrenaline filled body.
one month later, you’re back home in new york city. the rush of winning the world cup is still fresh– along with your popularity in the community skyrocketing due to your amazing world cup campaign.
you missed france already-- a little too much. the bond you’ve had with your uswnt teammates there was indescribable.
the world cup distracted you from your unfortunate situation at gotham fc too.
you’re an amazing player and the world cup showed the world that, but your coach at gotham seemed to have an agenda against you.
at first, you didn’t think so. you arrived at gotham six months ago and started for the first few games in the NWSL season, but it seems like the coach forgot about you after.
the defensive style of the squad is something you didn’t prefer as well. your play style fit well with an attacking style of play, but your coach didn’t want that.
after being benched for the big game against san diego wave, you had enough.
your agent and yourself filled a request in to transfer clubs or go on loan.
luckily for you, many clubs all over the world wanted the best U17 player.
when lyon came knocking on your door, you were happy to accept a year long loan deal.
at first, moving across the atlantic scared you. your older sister, whos much older than you, agreed to live with you until you’re eighteen that january, but you’ll be far away.
however, lyon is the best club in the world. you would never say no simply because you were “a little uncomfortable” with the move. oh well, football comes with uncomfortable events.
the uncomfortable events paid off well, since you're a starter for the champions league final against wolfsburg.
twenty minutes in, and you nearly had an opportunity to have the first goal of the final.
the ball was at lucy bronze's feet. you were free to accept her pass and did so. before you could pass the ball up to sommer-- Alex popp knocked you from behind and you were on the grass.
you were okay, and you got up fine afterwards. in fact-- you felt like that knock helped your nerves from playing your first champion's league final at the age of 18.
minutes later, sakina had the ball which prompted you to push forward. ingrid engen from wolfsburg kept her eyes on you, since she knows how fast and precise you were with the ball.
sakina tried to pass the ball up to kumagai, but pernille harder takes the ball. luckily, you were able to side tackle the ball from her. she fell, but you were at the ball so no yellow card was needed.
the noise around you were coaches yelling and players shouting at others in many languages. french, german, swedish, dutch, you name it.
its 2020, and there was no crowd due to covid. the empty chairs made it easy for your voice to echo.
you were close to being fluent in french after living in lyon for the last year, and having sakina and selma as your closest friends, so you opted to yell out to your teammates in that language instead of english--where the whole pitch might understand you.
renard had the ball with no wolfsburg player coming at her, so she took her time deciding on who to pass the ball to.
her pass to buchanan was clean, but svenja huth takes the ball from lucy as she runs to the middle.
svenja tries to pass the ball but it goes back to the defender in navy blue, renard.
the tall defender launches the ball at you running towards the right side. cascarino and you swap places as your feet quickly get inside of the box with the ball.
your left foot shoots the ball but the ball hits off of repohl-- wolfsburg's goalkeeper's, foot. the ball bounces towards le sommer, who shot the ball into the goal at the 25th minute.
le sommer high-fived you and hugged you as you both ran back into your positions. all season at lyon, you've had the highest number of assist-- and the third highest amount of goals.
the french club hopes to buy you from gotham, if there is no issue. your contract does say that there is no buy option involved, but they hope to try.
in the 44th minute, everyone was struggling to get their feet onto the ball. you were standing directly in the middle outside of the box when the ball was bounced back to you.
your left foot, your non-dominant one, launches the ball into the goal at a lightening speed. ingrid and alex popp didn't have the chance to stop you before your teammates screamed in celebration.
"when it fell-- it fell kindly for the american international who scores the second goal for lyon." a commentator speaks to the television audience as you ran to hug majri.
before the end of halftime, as you're ready to head back out onto the pitch, you frowned in realization.
after this fun season, you'll head back to the united states with a coach who wants nothing to do with you. you tried to stay optimistic and think about everything after the final is over, but the end of the season is in 45 minutes plus extra time.
"y/n bébé, garde la tête haute, tu as déjà marqué" (y/n baby, keep your head up, you've already scored) cascarino says as she places her hands on your shoulders. you relax into her hands as your head turns to face her stressed facial expression.
"ce n'est pas ça, je ne veux juste pas te quitter après ça" (that's not it, i just don't want to leave you after this) you whisper. your head leans back onto cascarino's head as she sighs.
"garde espoir, Lyon est content de t'avoir ici. Peut-être trouveront-ils un arrangement avec ton club d'origine" (keep hope, Lyon is happy to have you here. Maybe they will find an arrangement with your original club) cascarino whispers before you both jog out to the pitch.
"maybe.." you whisper to yourself after cascarino jogs away from you.
nothing much happened after halftime started, until alex popp scores a header. you weren't too afraid, since lyon are still up by one, but it's anyones game with thirty minutes left.
subs were made in the sixty-first minute for wolfsburg, so you stand beside cascarino to talk to her. as you look ahead at ewa leaving the pitch, you spot a familiar face entering.
the girl with a determined look jog onto the pitch, and you continue to look at her as she scans around the field. your mind itches, you know you've seen this girl somewhere before.
as she turns around with her back from you, you see 5 oberdorf.
again, you have no idea on who she is. you haven't played against wolfsburg until now, so maybe you played against her national team before? you had no idea.
wolfsburg had more possession this time around. you made a few tackles and won a few duals, but the german club was hungry to score an equalizer.
lucy got the ball away from pernille and passed the ball up to you.
you ran with the ball up the field. you dribbled around ingrid and alex popp effortlessly and your next move was to pass up to le sommer who was free.
all you heard was sakina yell "derrière toi!" (behind you) before you saw someone's leg coming from under you. your first reaction was to jump as the persons leg tripped you onto the grass.
your arms stopped your head from hitting the ground, but you turned to see that it was "oberdorf" who side tackled you.
"that should've been a yellow." you groaned to yourself as you stood up and wiped the grass stains off of your navy blue shorts.
"it was all ball, so no." oberdorf said back. your head quickly turned to her as she smirked at you.
so she's german.. hm. you thought as you recongized the accent.
a few minutes later, as lucy was preparing to throw the ball in-- oberdorf marked you as she stood beside you, not giving you a chance to escape her defense.
"get off of me!" you quietly said when she tried to hold your arm.
"lena, mark her!" ingrid yelled out as you quickly moved back to where lucy might throw.
you were sweaty at this point, but not too tired. a goal before halftime was what you needed to recharge your motivation and energy.
"you aren't getting another goal passed me." oberdorf says quickly. you shake your head as you look at her. the audacity.
"who are you talking to?" you snap.
"you." she smirked.
"well, oberdorf-- if you look at the scoreboard, you guys need another goal to equal us." you say as you both push back with bouhaddi, lyon's goalkeeper, was ready to hit the ball up the pitch.
"my name is lena." she scoffs as you went to saying her last name instead of her first.
"well, lena. its nice to meet you." you look ahead to see bouhaddi's kick.
the ball goes up to cascarino who heads the ball over to kumagai. you ran closer to offer help away from popp, but lena is chasing you.
the japanese decided to kick it back to renard so you move back to your natural spot. oberdorf follows you since she is assigned to mark you.
"what do you mean its nice to meet me? you met me last year." the german comments.
your mind seems to ease at this, you know that you've met her somewhere, and its fortunate that lena knows.
after a few minutes, you couldn't respond to her since the game is heating up. lucy cleared the ball out a few times, which caused a bunch of throw ins to occur.
fridolina almost scored after kicking from outside of the box, but the ball came straight to you. your body turned quickly, so her shot deflected off of your back and away from a chance of goal.
"where did we meet?" you ask as you end up near her again, waiting to defend the ball away from a free kick for wolfsburg by their goal.
"the adidas photoshoot during the world cup." she quietly says.
your conversations were quiet, since the empty stadium could echo your voice loudly if you were loudly talking.
the free kick was cleared by renard, but being on wolfsburg side of the pitch made you concerned. if lyon kept this up, wolfsburg might equalize.
luckily, in the 87th minute, lyon had a corner kick.
the kick was taken and it landed at your foot. you shot the ball towards the left side of the goal but it deflected off of janssen's foot.
the deflected landed on the back foot of gunnarsdottir and landed in the goal for the third goal of the final.
the group hug was filled with shouts that echoed throughout the stadium. after hugging dottir, cascarino and sakina patted your back as they jumped up and down around you.
"three goal contributions! you are insane." sakina says with her strong French accent, you smile as the end of the game is nearing. wolfsburg will have to pull of a miracle to beat lyon now.
in the last minute of extra time, oberdorf had you marked again. remembering what she said earlier, you smirked as you looked at her tense body position.
"I might've not scored against you, but I did get another assist." you say.
lena looked towards you with a straight face before responding, "ha ha" sarcastically.
when the whistle blows, you run to selma bacha who was on the line ready to be subbed in. she held you tightly as you repeatedly yelled, "we did it! we did it!"
after ellie carpenter hugged you for your one goal and two assists, you saw lena pulling pernille into a quick side hug.
saying that you didn't look at lena differently than all of the other girls would've been a lie. you found her attractive, and you know she knows she's attractive. that smirk wasn't fooling anyone.
"hey, great game lena." you said as you quickly hugged her. playing all 90 minutes made you tired, but you were okay since you're a champion's league winner.
she hugged you back. not to be weird, but you liked the way she smelled.
"thank you. can I have your shirt later?" she asks. you smirk at the idea of her wanting to swap jerseys with you.
"sure, as long as I can have yours." your eyebrows knitted together as you put your hands on her shoulders. lena smiled through her sad eyes and nodded her head at you.
