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wosofanstuff · 1 day

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Uff an amazing fic

I am an adult part 5

Hiya, so this is the penultimate part of this series. It's a little angstier than what I had originally planned and I'm not entirely sure it'll get much better ahahaha. Anyways, I hope you enjoy it. And shout out to @lyak12 for helping me out with the plot a little ahahah

Barça Femeni x Reader ; Lena Oberdorf x Reader

Part 1 : Part 2 : Part 3 : Part 3.5 : Part 4 : Part 5 : Part 6

Word Count: 5.3k

TW: A bit of bad mental health; R is a little shitty

It wasn’t until the Pokal Final that you actually got to see Lena again. It hadn’t really been a planned visit, but you had to get away. You had to see her, feel her again. You needed her to keep the darkness at bay. It was a random Monday morning when you received a phone call from your agent.

“Hey, pet, are you free to chat?” Paul said, his Geordie accent sounding slightly thicker than usual. “Yeh, yeh. I’ve just got home – what’s up?” You asked happily, not knowing the devastation that was about to come your way. “Um, look … there’s no easy way to say this, so I’m just gonna come right out and say it …” he paused, clearly psyching himself up for whatever he was about to say. You sat up from where you were slouched over the kitchen counter. This sounded important. Really important. And that scared you. “You know Barça have been having …” He searched for the right word. “Financial issues,” he settled on, hoping to give you an indication of where this conversation might be going. You did know the financial issues the club was having – it had been plastered all over various social media. You had tried not to let it worry you, but there had been a little niggle in the back of your head. “I’m so sorry, pet. They aren’t offering an extension. I’ve just received the information; they cannot afford to keep you on next season. You’re being let go. Your last match as a Barcelona Femeni player will be the 16th of June.”

Your world broke. What did they mean they could not afford to keep you? Were you not worth it to them? Of course, you weren’t worth the money. You were just a kid in their eyes. Why would they keep you instead of Alexia? A lifelong player that bled Barcelona and had multiple Ballon d'Ors to her name. Or Lucy? A multiple-time Champion League winner in her own right, with numerous individual accolades too. You were expendable. You were lucky they had even taken you on all those years ago. How naïve had you become to allow yourself to get comfortable? Was it because of the issues with the government last year? You knew you had seriously fucked up then, but everything seemed to be behind you. Nothing more had been said about the incident.

You cleared your throat, a futile attempt to dislodge the heavy lump that had formed. “Right … um …” You managed to croak out, your voice sounding foreign and weak to your own ears. “Pet, I know this is not what you wanted to hear. And I’m so, so sorry.” “It’s fine.” It was very much not fine. But you were too numb to do anything, really. The thoughts swirling dangerously across your mind were not something you wanted to process right now. “No, it’s not.” Paul's replied solemnly, his voice heavy. “I’ve tried to negotiate; I’ve just come back from a meeting with them, actually. I had hoped to have some kind of agreement made but they aren’t budging.” He paused, the silence echoing the futility of his efforts. “But you’ve got offers,” he reassured you, his words a feeble attempt to lighten the heavy disappointment. “Name the continent and you’ve got an offer. Portland, Houston, Gotham, Kansas, Tigres, Bayern, Wolfsburg, Lyon, PSG, Melbourne, Sydney, Chelsea, Man City,-”

It was too much. Information overload.

“C-can we not do this right now? I … I just need a minute.” Your voice was thick with suppressed tears. “Absolutely, of course. How about I get all the offers and whatnot up and into a document for you and I’ll email it over to you. You read over it, and I’ll schedule a meeting for, let’s say, next Monday? We can talk it all through then, yeah?” “Yeah,” you agreed absently. You didn’t want to look over offers. You wanted to stay in Barcelona. You were happy here; you had friends, and people you considered family were here. But they didn’t want you. They were more than happy to throw you to the wind without a second doubt. The phone call ended and that was that. Barça didn’t want you. You weren’t worth it.

Conflicting emotions raging a war in your mind; pain, hurt, anger, sadness, defeat, fear, anxiety, dread, disappointment, helplessness, embarrassment, shame. The first hour after the phone call you had stayed by the counter, watching each message from all of your teammates and Lena buzz. You prayed one of them would be Paul, telling you that Barça had reconsidered, that they had miraculously found the money and would offer you an extension. He never did. You knew the adult thing would be to let yourself feel … something … anything. But you didn’t want to be an adult right now. Adult, you would be sad; look over the document Paul sent over and view this as an opportunity. Adult you would phone up Ona and Alexia and ask them to come round and help you through this. Adult you would call Lena. But you weren’t an adult right now. Right now, you were scared and ashamed, and angry and in so much pain. You didn’t want to do what adults should do. You didn’t know what you wanted … but you knew being an adult was not one of them.

Eventually, you moved to the couch. The couch that you had forced Ona, Patri and Pina to help you pick out. The couch that had witnessed so many memories – you had cried on this couch, you had laughed on this couch, you had fucked on this couch, you had loved on this couch. And now you had to find a new couch. You had to leave this couch behind. Slowly, the darkness crept in. With every passing hour a new part of your house was in shadow, another memory gone. The suncatcher in the window, the candles on the coffee table, the pictures on the wall … all disappearing in the blackness and soon to be forgotten. That is what would happen to you; you were sure of it. Alexia would move on and find a new Pequeña. Ona would move in with Lucy. Patri and Pina would have dinner-and-movie dates together without you. Marta, Sandra and Irene would go back to their own lives and stop worrying about you.

What were you going to tell Lena? Sorry, Liebe, your girlfriend’s unemployed. Sorry, Liebe, your long-distance girlfriend is potentially moving further away, and you’ll never play against her again. Barcelona had witnessed so much of your first steps to a tentative relationship. Barcelona had seen your first meetings, your first date, your butterflies, your excitement when you returned home, your confusion as unknown feelings of love swirled around in your chest.

Your phone buzzed. Speak of the devil. You didn’t want to speak to her right now. You knew that talking to her would make you cry. And you were trying really hard not to cry. But all you wanted to hear was her voice, her laughter, her reassurances. Your body moved before you had even noticed. “Hey, Schatz.” “H-,” you cleared your throat. “Hey, Liebe.” “Was ist los mit dir?” You could hear the panic in her voice, the shuffling of fabric as she sat up, attentive to what was happening. Your phone beeped again.

L 💚 is requesting a switch to video call

You clicked yes without thinking about it. Her face filled your screen; even in pixels, she looked beautiful. You, on the other hand, looked like a mess. Had you been crying? You didn’t think so, but you must have been, as another tear rolled silently down your cheek. Your eyes were red, your skin splotchy, and your face swollen and puffy. “Oh, Schatz,” Lena cooed. “What’s wrong?” Her soft voice was filled with earnest. You could feel her willing you to speak to her. You shook your head as the lump grew in your throat. “Schatz … bitte.” You made eye contact through the phone. “Barça … Barça aren’t offering a new contract. I have to leave at the end of the season.” Silence. A heartbeat of pure torture. Lena didn’t know what to say. She was angry for you – how could they not want you? Talent aside, you were the most incredible human in the world. Why would they not want you? But one look at you told her you didn’t need her anger; you needed her comfort. “Oh, Schatz,” she cooed. You shook your head, trying to fight back the overwhelming force of tears. “It’s ok to cry,” she reminded you. Her permission was all you needed. Hot, wet tears streamed down your face; the sobs hurt your chest. How? How could they do this? It took a while, filled with Lena’s comforting words and gentle reassurance, for you to calm down. When you were coherent enough to see the screen properly, you could tell Lena had been crying, too. Great, now you had made your girlfriend cry. “Ha-have you spoken to your agent?” She asked quietly, humming when you nodded. There was another pause, this time not as painful but still hard to get through. “Schatz, I want to come see you. Or you to see me. Please…” she pleaded. “No, Liebe, you’re busy. You’ve,” you sniffed, wiping your nosy unattractively on your sleeve. God, you’d be lucky if she still wanted to be with you after this. “You’ve got the Pokal final in like 3 days.” You so desperately wanted to see her, though. “Then you come to me,” she implored. “I’ve got matches, too,” you whimpered. The last thing you wanted to do was play for a club that didn’t want you. “Schatz, I mean this in the nicest way possible, but fuck them.” That made you laugh … well, not laugh per se, more like a weird huff or snort. But Lena could tell it was a gesture of humour nonetheless, she couldn’t help but respond with a similar smile. “I’m being honest. You’ve basically won the league; you can skip one game. You need a break and time to get your head around everything. Tell them it’s for mental health or whatever. Just … please, Schatz. I need to see you. I need to know you’re ok,” she said more seriously. “If you don’t come to Germany, I’m coming to you.”

You mulled it over, and Lena could tell you were thinking properly. You stared off out of the camera, your teeth sinking into your lip. You had your thinking face on. You really didn’t want to see anyone at Barça for the next few days. You needed to step back and have time to process, but you couldn’t do that with training and having to face the girls again. And it was true that you had already won the league; you didn’t need to play this particular match. And a break might do you some good. With the Copa de la Reina and Champion’s League finals coming up, seeing Lena again was something that would definitely help you relax a little. But you had the Copa de la Reina and Champion’s League finals coming up. You couldn’t miss valuable days of training. Barça were on for the quadruple. Should you do it? “The matches …” you finally said. “Mean nothing if it’s at the expense of your mental well-being,” Lena said emphatically. That was true. Winning the Copa de la Reina and Champion’s League would mean the world to you, only … you wouldn’t, couldn’t, be able to truly enjoy the experience. Not with this sword dangling over your head.

Less than 6 hours later, you found yourself on a plane. You had booked the first available flight out of Barcelona, hastily stuffing random hoodies and comfy joggers into a bag and snatching your passport. A curt text to Jona was all it took. You had made your decision, and a sense of relief washed over you. Lena would help you make sense of everything. You would take some time, give yourself a few days away from it all and then return with a plan. At least, that's what you told yourself.

Y/F/N Y/S/N: Hi. Unfortunately, I won’t be at training this week due to personal reasons. I would also appreciate if my name taken off the match list this weekend. Thanks Y/N.

Jonatan Giráldez: Hola, Y/N. I’m so sorry to hear that. Of course, take as much time as you need and yes, your name is off the squad list. If there is anything the club can do to help, please let me know. I hope you feel better soon, J.

If there’s anything the club can do to help? After they threw you away like you were nothing? After they brought you here as a child and then washed their hands of you? Not even having the decency to tell you with more than a month until your contract expired. Why would you go to the club? And surely Jonatan would know about your agent's conversations with the club? The staff always had a say in who was staying and who wasn’t; he must have known that the meeting was happening. That you were being told that you were no longer considered a valuable squad member – or at least one that warranted the cost to keep on … right?

One thing you hadn’t really considered, or maybe you had subconsciously but didn’t care, was the rest of the team. In their eyes, you had finished the recovery session on the Sunday as happy as Larry, and then you had dropped off the face of the earth. No one had heard from you, and then suddenly, at training, Jona said that you were taking some time off due to personal reasons. And no, he genuinely didn’t know what the personal reasons were. He even went so far as to show the Captains your text message. Short and to the point, no elaboration. Patri could feel the iciness through the words. Something was wrong.

Alexia’s phone call went straight to voicemail, as did Patri’s … Sandra’s, Irene’s, and Marta’s. They had Ona try, Pina, Cata, and Lucy. Every member of the team tried phoning you, and they all received the same response: straight to voicemail. So, you had turned your phone off. “Is she at her house?” Keira asked, watching as Ona pulled up your location. Ingrid stood off to the side, watching with worry as the girls descended into chaos over your unknown whereabouts. “Ok, everyone, enough,” she shouted, drawing all attention to her. “Here’s what’s going to happen. Ona, Ale and I will go to Y/N’s and check if she’s there. If she is, we'll stay and help her out with whatever she needs. If she isn’t, we’ll come back to mine, and we think of what to do next, ok? Everyone else, you are more than welcome to come to go home with María and wait, or you can do whatever you want. I don’t really care. We’ll keep you all updated on what’s happening, yeh?”

The plan was simple, really. Everyone knew what they had to do. The anxiety in the car was high, but calm and sensible Ingrid helped break the tension. “Her cars here,” Ona pointed out, nodding her head towards your designated space. “That’s good,” Ale smiled, squeezing Ona’s shoulder, but shared a look with Ingrid. They knew that that meant little in the grand scheme of things, you often ordered an Uber to take you places instead of driving. The hallway was unusually dark as they approached your apartment door. It was shut and locked, ruling out a break-in at least. Letting themselves in, it was starkly evident that you had left in a hurry – wherever you had gone. A blanket was carelessly left on the couch, a half-drunk cold cup of tea on the counter, your wardrobe door open and hangers on the bed. You were conspicuously absent. Ona was deeply unsettled; this was not like you at all. You never left without a word. Even if you were just going to the shops, you always texted her or sent her a silly selfie – it was a habit she cherished about you. Something was seriously, truly amiss.

Seeing Lena, the stone pressing on your chest felt lifted slightly. You walked straight into her arms as you hurried through the exit. Her soft skin, cinnamon smell, warm arms, and strong heartbeat soothed the storm. “Schatz,” she cooed, not mentioning the tears she felt dropping onto her shoulder. Come on, we’ll get a taxi back to my hotel, ja?” She ushered you towards the taxi rank. It was a little awkward for you both as she kept her arm tightly around you, silently thanking the heavens that you had brought only a carry-on backpack and not an actual suitcase.

After speaking to Tommy and signing a totally unnecessary NDA, you were allowed to sit in on the Wolfsburg training. You were reluctant to leave Lena; she wanted you as close as possible. It was obvious to everyone that you were not ok as you kept your eyes trailing to the floor and a firm grip on Lena. You were always seen with your arm around her waist, her hand in yours or your head resting on her shoulder. To those who didn’t know you, it would just look like long-distance lovers finally reunited; to everyone else, though, you were clearly going through something. Jule hadn’t even said anything before pulling you into a hug, squeezing nice and tightly before passing you to Sveindís. She had just pressed a kiss to your forehead before continuing the conversation as if it was normal for you to be there. Alex and Svenja had pulled you aside as you walked into breakfast the first morning you were there. When they heard from Lena that you were watching the final, they thought it would be perfect timing for the talk. They prepared a speech and everything, promising painful retribution if you stepped a foot out of line. An hour watching you and Lena interact silently, automatically knowing what the other needed without ever speaking, made them throw their plan straight out the window.

“Hey, Y/N. Can we talk for a minute?” Alex asked, putting a gentle hand on your elbow. You looked up wildly at Lena, relaxing slightly as she smiled and kissed your cheek, moving away to give you privacy. “Whose behinds do we need to kick?” Svenja jumped straight to it. “Huh?” You furrowed your brows in confusion. “We’ve seen the way you interact on the pitch. We’ve been in the room when you call Lena. You clearly are not yourself, so I’ll ask again. Whose needs a good kick up the bum?” It was something about the pair of them. You knew they were the motherly figures of the team, especially for Lena. She always sang their praises whenever she had the chance. You took a deep breath. “The whole of Barça?” You don’t know why you said it as a question. “Barça as in the city of Barcelona? Or just the team?” Alex quizzed “Um … well, they aren’t renewing my contract in the summer. They said they can’t afford it. But the first time either me or my agent heard about it was when they formally told us. I guess it just … knocked me a little.” You confessed. It was the first time you had explained what had happened since you first told Lena. Your heart clenched as you said the words, every syllable making it more and more real. “Oh, mausi. It’s ok.” Alex pulled you into a hug, gently squeezing you. “Take as much time as you need, ja? And talk to Obi, lean on her, let her be there for you.” Svenja added, rubbing your back comfortingly. You nodded, smiling gratefully at the two women.

You tried to keep a low profile, you successfully stayed out of the camera as you sat in the stands during Wolfsburg’s practices. You had spent most of the training looking over the documents your manager had sent over. A lot of the offers seemed really good. A very nice salary from most of them, some offered flats and houses, others offered cars and expenses. But there was one that stood out for you. It was no different than any of the other offers. But it lingered in your mind; it danced across your thoughts as you tried to fall asleep in Lena’s arms; it flicked as you ate breakfast; it appeared randomly as you waited for Lena to return from the showers. Should you? Logically, you knew you had to go somewhere. And you would have to move out of Barcelona and probably out of Spain too. There was one thing that this offer had that the others didn’t. Well, not a thing, but a person.

Inevitably, for all your efforts to hide yourself away, you were caught at the match. You had a black hoodie of Lena’s on and sunglasses, hoping it was enough to keep you from being recognised, but the fans were too good. You were picked up by hundreds of phones, all snapping photos of you. You knew it was kind of stupid to go to Lena’s match after withdrawing from your own, but you wanted to watch a football that didn’t impact you in any way beyond that of a fan. You were desperate to watch the game you loved as a fan again, to rediscover your love for the sport you dedicated your whole life to.

Ona was absolutely beside herself with worry. She was convinced you were dead. Or seriously injured, at the very least. “Si us plau, si us plau, Lucia. Por favor. Please,” she begged Lucy. For what, Lucy was unsure. “I don’t know what to do.” “I know, my love. I know.” Lucy ran her hands through Ona’s loose hair, twisting the strands around her fingers in a way she knew should bring her comfort. “What if she’s dead? I can’t lose her, not like this. Not without saying goodbye,” Ona sobbed. “She’s not, I promise you. She isn’t dead.” Despite her attempts, she didn’t know that. Not definitely. You could be lying in a ditch somewhere or in a hospital bed, unable to wake up and tell someone your name. Of course, she was worried for you, but she was more concerned for Ona. She was inconsolable. You had disappeared from her life without a trace.

Next to Lucy, her phone buzzed. She was going to ignore it; her girlfriend needed her more than whoever was messaging her. But when Ona’s tinged and then both started to ring, she sat up slightly. “Sí?” “She’s alive.” Ingrid breathed, sighing out in relief. That made Lucy sit up. “Hold on, let me put you on speaker, I’m with Oni.” “She’s alive. She’s in Germany. It’s on Instagram and Twitter. She’s at the Pokal final.” Mapí said, her tone a mix of relief and anger. “Què?” Ona sniffled, sitting up and leaning into Lucy more. “Some accounts have photos of her, it's all over social media. Ingrid’s trying to reach anyone from Wolfsburg. So’s Frido.” Mapí explained. “Lena,” Ona said, realisation dawning on her. If you were at a game in Germany, you would be watching Lena play.

Rumour: Y/F/N Y/S/N to transfer to Wolfsburg or Bayern Munich.

After being spotted at the DFB-Pokal Frauen 2024 Final, F.C. Barcelona midfielder Y/F/N Y/S/N is rumoured to make the intercontinental move next season. To which club is yet to be confirmed, but all signs point to the young player leaving Barcelona in the summer. With her presence at the Pokal Final, can we assume that she will be going to either Wolfsburg or Bayern?

Keep reading to find out more …..

Ona stared at her phone in shock. There was no way, no way in hell you were leaving Barça, especially not without telling her. You were happy here; you loved it here. Why would you go? You had friends here; you had your best friend here; you had your family here. She couldn’t help the tears that welled in her eyes. You weren’t leaving her, were you? It would explain why you were MIA for the past three days. Whilst she was at home, worried sick that you were lying dead in a ditch or in some ICU in a coma, your name unknown, you were off in Germany, living life and meeting your new teammates. And you had abandoned training and asked to be taken off the match squad. This couldn’t be the personal reasons you had mentioned in your text. There had to be more to it. There had to be a simple explanation. And yet, none was forthcoming. You had hopped on a plane and flew to Germany. No message, no phone call, no email. Just upped and left the country. So you could meet with your new team.

How could you do this to Ona? After all that you two had been through, after all that you had shared with each other. You were the first person she told about Lucy. You were the first person outside the Spanish national players she confessed to about what truly happened behind closed doors. You were there for her in ways no one else was or could be. And yet, you were leaving her without saying goodbye.

Leaving Lena was hard; you didn't really want to go back to Barcelona and face what was awaiting you. When you finally switched your phone back on, you were met with thousands of messages and missed calls. They started off concerned, then really worried and then they turned angry. You couldn't fault them; your behaviour was shitty. You would be just as angry if one of them had done that to you. But you needed a few days without anyone related to Barcelona. You needed the distance to clear your head and gather a game plan to present to your agent when you next spoke. You didn't even know about the article that was making its way around the internet. You weren't too big on social media unless it was to make your monthly Instagram posts. You followed the necessary people and uploaded the right things, but you didn't scroll for hours. You had been there before, been down that path and knew that only badness lay ahead. You had read the comments, seen the nastiness, heard the bitterness. So, you stayed clear, away from the world of social media trolls and online negativity. You didn't know of the absolute hell that was awaiting you.

Maybe going straight from the airport to training was a bad idea. Perhaps you should have taken the time to phone someone and let them know you were returning. Possibly, you should have spoken to Alexia and Ona first so you could explain yourself properly. Potentially you should have checked social media. But you didn’t. You didn’t do any of that.

You arrived at the training ground with your headphones in and hood up. You hurried passed reception, ignoring the glares from the receptionist and physios. You had hoped to catch Ona or Alexia before training, to pull them aside and explain everything to them (hopefully without crying).

“So, you’re transferring then?” Lucy called, her face stern and eyes blazing in anger. You hummed, confused and slightly shocked at her tone, but opted to walk straight to your cubby. “Oh, no, you don’t. Turn around.” Your headphones were still blasting music, so you never heard her. Lucy grabbed your shoulder roughly, swinging you back around to face. “What the fuck,” you flinched, pulling your headphones out and taking a step back. “You don’t get to do this. Not after I watched Ona cry herself to sleep ‘cos you were missing.” You felt your heart sink. Had she really done that? “I-” You felt guilty. You really, really felt horrible about what you had done to your … friends … ex-friends … teammates … ex-teammates. Ona especially. She was your best friend, and to see her puffy eyes and solemn expression from across the room made you feel even worse. And it bubbled up into anger. Mainly at yourself, but you couldn’t help but explode when Lucy started shouting. “Got nothing to say, have you?” She took a step closer. “We’re not good enough for you, now? You’ve found yourself a little girlfriend, and suddenly, your friends aren’t enough.” You squared up to her. “Leave Lena out of this,” you said menacingly, matching her energy. If she wanted a fight, she'd get one. “Please, you’re a fucking joke. You don’t get to waltz back in here like nothing happened. You were missing for 4 days. Not a single text to us to tell us what was going on.” “I don’t have to tell you everything.” She was right, though, and you knew it. A simple message to someone, anyone, to let them know would have solved a lot of issues. “What about Ona? Is she no longer your best friend? Or Ale, the woman who took you in when you first arrived?” She pressed. You were basically nose-to-nose at this point. “Why did you even bother coming back?” You recoiled as if she had just slapped you. It stung like she had. Why had you bothered coming back? Barça didn’t want you. And now the team didn’t want you either. “Fuck you, Bronze.” Your voice cracked slightly, your jaw clenched, and your mouth set in a harsh line. You were trying really hard not to cry. “Are you trying to burn all your bridges before you abandon us? If you are, it’s working.” She looked you up and down, the disdain in her eyes obvious. “You don’t deserve to be here anymore, let alone have us as friends.” You knew Lucy got angry when she was hurt, but hearing those words confirmed everything you already thought about yourself and this situation. Lena had spent days trying to glue your fragile mind back together, and with a single sentence, you had shattered into a thousand pieces again.

You hadn’t noticed the crowd gathering around you, the semi-circle blocking your exit and forcing you to keep up your façade. To most of the others, Lucy just echoed their hurt feelings, saying precisely what they were thinking. But Alexia and Ona could see the pain swirling behind your eyes before Lucy started the argument. The pair of them could also see your heartbreak as the words echoed around the silent changing rooms despite the mask you had on. You took a moment to gather yourself. Taking a breath, you said lowly. “You know what? If this is how you treat everyone that’s leaving, I’m glad Barça aren’t renewing my contract. I don’t want to be on a pitch with someone that thinks so little of me.”

I hope you enjoyed <3<3<3<3<3

#fic rec #lena fic #wolfsburg fic #barca fic #multiple parts fic

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wosofanstuff · 9 days

Text

Love it

Let the sun shine for a last time

a/n: hello...

Pairing: Ewa Pajor x Léon!reader; VfL Wolfsburg x reader

Summary: Ewa last game for Wolfsburg [in the same universe as 'Ray of sunshine']

Type: Fluff

Warning; use of Google tranlsate for Polish and Spain like usual so let me know id there's mistakes

word count: 2332

-------

Things were strange. Well, not really. It was just the end of the season. This time of the year always seemed rushed. You usually didn't really feel that, but this time it was different.

All started nearly before the final of the cup. It was not a big deal, and you were confident in your victory, even if it was against Bayern. But this year it was different. It was not only for the club this time.

After nine years in the club, things were about to change, and you finally started to process it at the end of the away game against Werder when you saw Ewa crying against Alex.

Your teammates could see that something was bothering you at the end of the game but didn't say anything. It was not really a surprise that your wife would leave the club at the end of the season, but it seems to be only official after her announcement on social media.

Among all the fans thanking your wife for her service at the club and wishing her good luck for the next step, some were really asking themselves how you were doing knowing that you extended your contract with the German club last season.

And that was a great question. How were you doing? Well, it wasn't a surprise that you didn't seem the same.

You woke up before Ewa; it was a sunny day, and the temperature was also good, but you didn't feel right. You sat on the edge of your bed, scanning the room, trying to process how this would affect your life here, even if you knew that nothing would really change.

Lost in your thoughts, you were oblivious to your wife, who was searching you in her half-sleep state, wiping her arm everywhere on your side of bed before finally lifting her head when she didn't find you. "What are you doing?" she mumbled through tiredness. When you didn't reply, she finally decided to sit up, brush the remnants of sleep in her eyes, and wrap her arm around your chest before her head found a place on your shoulder. "Hi, are you okay?" she asked, finally catching your attention this time.

"Yeah, sorry, I just spaced out." You replied.

"I can see that." She waited a moment, comfortably pressing against you, to think about moving. "I love you, you know that?" She asked out of the blue, making you look at her.

"Yes, of course, and I love you too."

"I know, I just wanted to remind you of that. I don't know what's going on in your mind, but I can see that you're not yourself." She finished her sentence by leaving a soft kiss on your neck and gently locking her hands with yours.

"I think you're still tired, mi amor, you're talking nonsense." You tried to brush it off, even if you knew she could see through any of your masks.

The striker didn't talk further and just stayed like that for another fifteen minutes until you needed to use the restroom.

A few hours later, the brunette was almost dragging you into the changing room with all your teammates already there. Like expected, she was immediately circled by some teammates.

Even if you knew that nothing would change between you two, you couldn't help but notice the little change from the last few weeks. Like right now. Since the day before the final of the pokal, Ewa has become more 'intimate' with you around everyone.

Walking hands in hands, sitting on her laps, calling you sweet names, or even dropping some discreet kisses. Of course she already did things like that before, but it became more frequent, and she didn't even hide it from your teammate.

Don't get it wrong, you liked that more than anyone else, but it also felt like she was trying to make up for her choice.

After letting go of her hand, you found your place next to Lena. The midfielder greeted you with a tight hug, making you laugh. The German player only let you go before Do was the new one to catch you between her arms.

"Oh, come on, girls, you already want to make me cry?" You said earning some laughs from the two players.

"I'll miss you." The Dutch woman told you sincerely. After five years in the club, the two of you grew pretty close, almost like sisters.

"Don't miss me too much, because I don't think I'll be able to see you as much as I want."

"Will you come to see me?" The young player asked, making you roll your eyes.

"Come on, even if I don't, you'll be the one who comes back here. You can't live without me." You joked.

"Okay guys, don't bother my super defender, I need her total focus for the game." Merles said coming out of nowhere.

"Don't worry, I'm always focused." You reassured her.

After getting changed, it was time for the last warm-up for the last game of the season. Warming up with the defender and some midfielders, you were stuck with Do and Lena, who didn't stop to tease you about the heart eyes you gave to your own wife.

Back in the changing room, you changed for the green kit, and immediately after that, Ewa somehow just appeared next to your cubby and was determined to stay there even when the coach came for the last tactical talk.

For her last game, the Polish player was designed to be the captain today, which meant that she was leading the team out the tunnel, forcing you to stay behind. You seemed excited; at least that's what a lot of people would think if they saw you right now. Honestly, you were nervous, and Alex could see that, so she just kept her hands on your shoulder, trying to ease your mind, which was usually Ewa's special mission.

"Don't worry, it will be alright." That was the last thing the tall player told you before you came out of the tunnel.

AOK Stadion, May 20th. For maybe one last time, you were looking at the woman wearing the number '9' on her green and white shirt with her back facing you, waiting for the whistle. And when it comes to time, it seems to go so quick and so slow at the same time.

Slow because, after only a halftime, you were leading 4-0 with a hat trick from your wife. But quick, because after only a few minutes back for the second half, you understood that it was maybe the last minutes that you shared with her in front of this public, wearing this kit in the city that you called home.

When Ewa got subbed off, time seemed to finally go with you, and the end of the match was a big rush but allowed Wolfsburg to win 6-0.

The final whistle and the tension left your body. A pretty big victory for the last of the season. You were caught in your celebration with Nuria and Fena, so you were surprised when you were spinned around by a very happy brunette, and her lips crashed on yours immediately.

At first, you were shocked, but you quickly forgot that and reciprocated every feeling she put on that kiss. It was a special one. It was a mixture of the goodbye kisses she gave before leaving for international duty, with the make-up kisses you exchanged after any arguments, and with the celebration kisses that you used to exchange the night after you lifted a trophy. The sensation was exceptional, almost making you nostalgic for the first time you kissed her or when you did to officialize your marriage.

A lot of sheering could be heard around you. Well, it was very hard to tell where it was from because it seemed like the whole stadium was screaming for you.

"Wow." was the only thing you were able to say after you pulled apart. Ewa was blushing in front of you, even if for some people it just looked like she was just exhausted from the run she made to reach you.

She didn't wait until you said anything else before locking you in a tight hug. "Kocham Cię. Wiem, że już to wiesz, ale naprawdę chcę, żebyś wiedział, że cokolwiek się stanie, nic. I mówię, że absolutnie nic nas nie rozdzieli. (I love you. I know that you already know that, but I really want you to know that whatever happens, nothing. And I say absolutely nothing would drift us apart.)" She rushed out of her mouth in her native language, making you furrow your eyebrows a little. But she couldn't have to say anything else before she was required to receive her top goalscorer trophy.

You followed her, letting her pose with the trophy, until she turned around and made her way back to you. "I love you," she repeated, "and thank you for all these years." You didn't reply 'I love you' back before the team almost crashed against you and your wife.

The rest of the celebration was very good, and back at your home around 11 p.m., you were both really exhausted. Your hands were full with all the presents from the club and the fan for departure when your phone rang in your pocket.

You groaned from exhaustion, of course, but also irritation. Thankfully, the striker carefully dropped everything and picked up your phone for you.

"Hola Mapi, ¿cómo estás?" You heard your wife ask while you were finally freeing your arms.

"Oh, muy bien, gracias. Veo que tus clases de español finalmente empiezan a dar sus frutos. (Oh, very good, thank you. I see that your Spanish lessons finally start to pay off.)" Your sister replied, making you a little proud.

"Y/n is a very good teacher when she wants to." You rolled your eyes at that but decided not to comment.

"Talking about her, where is she?"

"I'm here," you said, appearing just beside Ewa, not forgetting to give her a quick kiss on the cheek.

"Look at how cute you are. Look, Ingrid, aren't they cute?" The defender asked her girlfriend.

"Yeah, very, but you should check on Instagram." The Norwegian said making you a little confused.

"Yes, that's why I called you." Mapi seemed to miraculously remember something very important. "Check on what I sent you on Instagram." Unfortunately, you couldn't ask more questions before she hung up.

You were both perplexed about that but decided to check it out after a well-deserved shower. After that, you were on your bed while Ewa was drying your hair when you remembered what your sister said.

You picked up your phone and went on Instagram. You didn't bother to check the message you got, only Mapi's one, and let's just say that you were surprised. The other woman peeping at your phone from your back immediately stopped what she was doing after she saw what your sister sent you.

"What is that?" It was not a question, but more something she said at the moment because she didn't know what else to say. Because she already knew what that was, and she knew that she was responsible for it.

Here in front of you, a post that consisted of only one thing: the kiss that your (actually shocked) wife gave you on the heat of the moment after your game.

It was not a secret that you two were married, so it wasn't really surprising when people saw you kiss each other. But there you were both now, almost everywhere on the woso side of Instagram, kissing shamelessly your wife in front of everyone.

But the quality of the photo was actually not bad; even better, it was a very professional quality, which made you think about something.

"I want to frame it." You announced, making Ewa's jaw drop.

"What?" She asked even if she clearly understood.

"I want to frame it in the biggest format possible. I'll hang up the TV in the living room."

"No, moja kochana (my love), you can't."

"Why?"

"Because I don't want to have a huge picture of me, lips locked with yours, hanging up to my TV in my living room or anywhere in my house."

"But we have an exact picture of you, lips locked with mine next to our bed!"

"It was from our wedding, kochanie (honey)!"

"And?"

"What you mean, 'and?', I don't want to, end of the discussion." She finished her sentence by leaving the hair dryer next to the bed before she lay in it. "Turn off the light when you have finished."

You didn't say anything else. You liked the post. You got up to turn off the light, joining her on your bed.

"Know what? I'll miss this." You gently wrapped your hand around her.

"What?"

"Our arguments, our little debates, and everything else."

"You sound like I'll leave and never come back."

"Will you?"

"If you ask me, why not?"

"Because we both know that you have so much to accomplish somewhere else."

"But that doesn't mean that I'm happy to leave you." She finally turned to face you. "We can't stay away from each other too long. Sometimes I'll come to see you here, and sometimes you'll come to see me."

"And let's not forget the Champions League." You added.

"Yep, let's not forget that." For a moment, you just looked at each other before she broke the silence again. "You know, I said I didn't want it in a big format above the TV, but we can frame it and put it next to our wedding one." She suggested making you smile. "Or, we can frame it, and I'll keep it with me while you keep our wedding one carefully here."

"Whatever you decide, I'll go with it." You replied very enthusiastically. "Kocham cię (I love you)."

"I know, and Te quiero también (I love you too)"

#fic rec #ewa fic #wolfsburg fic #not over ewa leaving 🥲#sister reader

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