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summer-princess · 3 months

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Far From Angry: Hardersson x Reader (Part 1)

Summary: You meet a stranger and her girlfriend at the bar. Things escalate quickly. Pairing: Hardersson x Reader Warnings: 🔞Smut. Mdni🔞 Disclaimer: Obviously fiction Words: 2778

Pt. 2

Ever since you entered the bar, the pretty blonde sitting a few stools away hadn’t taken her eyes off of you.

You weren’t normally one for going out, especially without your friends, but the sound of music and unseasonably warm night air had drawn you out of your apartment, walking downtown to your favorite bar, ready to enjoy the evening.

You were certainly enjoying the sight of the beautiful woman in the flowy white top, her sweet smile as she looked across the bar at you.

Her eyes didn’t leave you as she finished her drink, sliding her glass back across the bar. You blushed as she looked away, and you caught a hint of white teeth scraping across a pair of ruby lips.

Fuck.

Taking a deep breath and gathering your courage, hoping you were interpreting her glances correctly, you hopped up from your stool and walked the few feet between you, hoping you looked more confident than you actually felt. As you sat down on the stool beside her, the pretty blonde tucked her hair behind her ears, turning her head to smile at you again.

“Hi,” she said, and you caught the slightest hint of an accent, one you couldn’t quite place.

“I’m Pernille,” she said, turning her stool to face you. She leaned forward, toward you, giving you the same brilliant smile that had drawn you over in the first place.

You introduced yourself, pleasant shivers running up and down your spine as she made eye contact with you, tilting her head and raising her eyebrows, clearly waiting for you to continue.

“So, Pernille,” you said, matching her posture, hoping to convey just how interested you were in getting to know her and her pretty smile a whole lot better. “Can I buy you a drink?”

Before she could answer, another blonde appeared over Pernille’s shoulder. Her hair was darker than Pernille’s, and the hand she put on Pernille’s shoulder was attached to a muscled arm.

“What’s going on over here, love?”

Love?

It was like someone had dumped a bucket of ice water over your head as you processed the words.

Love.

She had a girlfriend.

Of course she had a girlfriend.

As the other woman, just as blonde and just as gorgeous, claimed Pernille’s lips with her own, you felt a humiliated blush rising to coat your cheeks.

You wished that someone would break one of the legs off of the barstool and beat you over the head with it. Or that a freak sinkhole would open beneath the floor, somehow burying only you in the dirt. Because this was beyond your worst nightmares.

“Fuck,” you whispered, not sure which one of them you were talking to as apologies began to spew from between your lips.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t know, I didn’t mean… Fuck, I’ll just-”

You made to stand up, charting the path that would get you to the exit quickest, but before you could make your escape, Pernille reached out and grabbed your hand, clasping it in hers. You let out a tiny gasp, still on your stool, at the contact, your eyes flickering back and forth between your skin touching hers and the woman whose hand had moved from her shoulder to her waist, possessively gripping her flowy white top.

“Don’t go,” she said, voice somewhere between a command and a plea. Even though your heart was racing, your legs longing to carry you far away, it was enough to make you pause.

You looked back and forth between Pernille and her partner, beyond confused. There had been no mistaking the look in your eyes as you approached her, or the undertones when you asked to buy her a drink. But there was also no mistaking the fact that she had a girlfriend, a very pretty and very strong looking girlfriend who had, out of some miracle, not yet put you on the ground.

“B-But,” you stuttered, trying to make sense of the increasingly odd situation in which you found yourself.

“Y-You, your girlfriend- She’s already angry enough at me, I-”

You didn’t have time to finish your runaway train of thought before you were unceremoniously interrupted.

“Do I look angry?”

You didn’t think you could stand looking at Pernille’s girlfriend any longer without wanting to light yourself on fire, so you didn’t. Instead, you stared at your nearly-empty drink, trying to think of how to escape this humiliating and bizarre situation with some of your dignity still intact.

You didn’t see the look they gave each other, but you definitely felt it when a hand grasped your chin, forcing your head upward. A pair of blue eyes met yours, clouded by mirth and something else you couldn’t quite place. Your eyebrow crinkled in confusion at the absence of anything identifiable as anger, a confusion that only grew when she spoke again.

“I’ll ask you again,” she said. “Do I look angry?”

Answering wasn’t optional this time, you could tell. So, trembling a little, you shook your head.

“N-Not really.”

“Clever girl.”

Her voice, smooth and seductive and just a bit condescending, hit you like a jolt of electricity, and you couldn’t stop the shudder that ran through your body at the tone, from the tips of your fingers to between your legs. You quickly lowered your eyes again, hoping that she wouldn’t notice.

The self-satisfied smirk on her face made it clear that your hopes were in vain.

“Magda, baby,” said Pernille, standing and taking her place at her partner’s side, tucking herself under the taller woman’s free arm. “I think she likes it when you talk to her like that.”

Your mouth was slightly open, gaping in shock as you pressed your thighs together, unable to deny the arousal beginning to pool in your core. No matter how embarrassing Pernille’s words might have been, they were undeniable- the condescending tone of Magda’s voice made your mouth water, the need for the two of them to do what they wanted with you taking over your mind.

“Oh, she’s so cute,” said Pernille, relishing the way you shuddered as she placed her hand on your thigh, fingers sliding upward and creeping closer to the hem of your panties under your new skirt. Magda nodded in agreement.

“Her face is all red,” she said, the two of them exchanging comments as if you couldn’t hear them speaking. You had an idea of where this was going, one that you desperately hoped was correct, and the thought of it made you press your thighs together with need.

“I wonder what she’d look like all spread out on our bed.”

You gasped quietly, initial arousal only amplifying as they confirmed the thought that had been solidifying in your mind. With a squeeze of Pernille’s hand, Magda took a step forward towards you, her gaze piercing through you and making you whimper again.

“Do you want this?”

Magda’s breath was hot against your neck as she whispered the question into your ear, and you were sure that she could hear your pulse pounding.

You nodded so quickly that you could have given yourself whiplash, still gaping in disbelief even as she smirked, helping you to your feet and throwing a wad of cash behind her, payment for the drink you had tried to buy her girlfriend.

This was actually happening.

Their apartment was only a few blocks away from the bar, and when they guided you through the door, you had barely kicked off your shoes when you found yourself pressed against the wall by a pair of strong arms.

You hadn’t noticed Magda’s muscles back in the bar when you were refusing to look at her, but now that they were being used to pin you against the wall, they were difficult to ignore. You bit your lip, letting out a little moan, one which she immediately swallowed with her mouth. Magda’s tongue pressed insistently against your lips, and you didn’t waste any time before granting her access, letting her dominate the kiss.

You weren’t normally this submissive- typically, you would have made at least a token effort to take back some control, but something about these women made that seem like a concept far too difficult and complex to grasp. So you let Magda devour your lips, her hands on your waist as you started to move again.

Guiding you backward into their bedroom, Magda’s hands migrated downward to your ass, giving it a hard squeeze. You could vaguely sense Pernille nearby, a few steps ahead of you, but you couldn’t see the way she’d already shed her top, tossing it carelessly aside as she flicked on the light switch in their bedroom.

When Magda stopped moving, hands on your ass stilling you as well, you felt the other woman come up beside you, but still shivered when she whispered in your ear.

“You gonna do what we tell you, baby? You gonna be a good girl for us?”

The coaxing voice in your ear made you tilt your neck in the opposite direction, exposing the soft skin to Pernille as Magda broke your kiss, releasing you from her hold.

“Uh huh,” you said, and were rewarded by a new pair of warm lips pressed against your own. Pernille’s kiss was dirty and tender at the same time, her pink tongue gentler than Magda’s had been but with a similar level of control and the identical result of making you crave more of her touch.

“Let us give you what you need, honey,” said Pernille, voice saccharine as she pulled away from your lips. “Let us fuck you like you need to be fucked.”

Your nod was desperate, her words only adding to the copious arousal between your thighs.

“Good. Then strip for us, pretty girl,” she whispered in your ear before releasing her hold on your body, raising an eyebrow and fixing you with a coaxing smirk.

Blinking a few times to regain even a modicum of composure, you blushed as you pulled your shirt over your head, both of the women’s eyes locked on you predatorily as you set the garment atop their wardrobe, revealing your lacy bra.

“So pretty,” said Magda, as you reached for the hem of your skirt. You had to wiggle your hips to slide out of the slightly-too-small fabric, a sight which made both pairs of eyes locked on you darken, the couple exchanging a look full of hunger. When the garment finally dropped to the floor, leaving you in just your bra and matching panties, you looked back over at them and found the pair exchanging a heated kiss of their own. Sensing your gaze, Magda pulled away from Pernille’s lips to raise an eyebrow at you.

“All of it.”

Your flush deepened as you undid the clasp of your bra, shrugging it off your shoulders and letting it join your skirt and top in the haphazard pile on the floor. With your breasts exposed to their hungry gaze and nipples beginning to harden, unprompted, into peaks, you reached for the waistband of your panties and let them slide down your legs, stepping out of them when they pooled around your ankles.

You had somehow missed Pernille approaching you, the lighter blonde woman reaching out a hand and slipping it between your legs. You gasped at the sudden contact, unable to stop your hips from jutting forward, seeking friction against your throbbing cunt.

It only lasted for a moment before she turned her head back towards Magda, giving her a smirk and a nod.

“Get on the bed, pretty girl.”

You nodded quickly, scurrying across the room and seating yourself on the edge of their sizeable mattress. One look from Magda told you that that wasn’t what she had meant and so, still blushing, you laid yourself carefully back against one of their pillows, hyper-aware of their eyes on you, gazes locked on the curve of your breasts and the copious arousal gathered between your pretty thighs.

You could tell what the order of things would be when Pernille walked toward the edge of the bed, lingering beside you without sitting down, and Magda climbed up immediately, her large hands pulling you just slightly further forwards to where she wanted you.

“Open your fucking legs.”

Magda’s words weren’t a request, but the order was one that you were all too happy to obey. Letting your thighs fall apart, you watched, unbreathing, as the other woman pulled a hair elastic from her wrist and tied her blonde waves up into a careless bun.

Feeling the bed dip beside you, you heard Pernille’s voice against your neck as she left a trail of kisses across the sensitive skin.

“Magda’s going to taste you now.”

Barely had the words left her mouth then Magda’s tongue connected with your core, the woman wasting no time before licking a wet stripe over your soaking hole. You gasped, fingernails digging into your palm as you clenched your hands tightly, and the sound must have pleased the other woman, because her soft chuckle vibrated against your core.

She took a minute to explore, warm appendage tracing a path up and down your cunt, unmoved by your breathy pleas for her to go faster, or to put her mouth on the one place you needed it most.

“Patience, honey,” crooned Pernille, noticing your gyrating hips. “Stay still. Let her enjoy you.”

You sobbed in pleasure as Magda’s tongue swiped through your pussy again and again, Pernille’s soft hands tugging at your nipples. The woman between your thighs was talented, the wet muscle of her mouth lapping and kissing all the right spots, finally running her tongue across your swollen clit, even letting a hint of teeth scrape across your thigh once in a while.

You couldn’t have closed your legs if you wanted to, a combination of Magda’s shoulders and her hands combining to hold them open.

“Stay still,” she reminded you with a gentle smack to one of your thighs.

Still, you couldn’t help but buck against her tongue, trying to get her mouth back on your clit.

“I told you to stay still,” said Magda with a growl, strong hands pushing your hips back down to the mattress.

A shudder ran up and down your body at her harsh tone. Pernille, you noticed, now had one hand on each of your tits, the strength in her arms a warning that, if you moved again, she wouldn’t hesitate to use that muscle to keep you pinned down with no choice except to take what her partner gave.

Your body shook with the effort of keeping still, of not allowing your hips to rock against Magda’s tongue, but you were rewarded by attention lavished on your bud, able to feel the other woman’s smile against your cunt.

You shuddered, feeling your muscles tighten as your peak began to grow closer. Apparently Magda could sense it as well, because she pulled her mouth away from you and reached for her girlfriend.

Pernille obeyed the summons, leaving you writhing on the bed, whining pathetically at the loss of contact as Magda pulled her in for a deep kiss. Your eyes went to the two women, unable to stop a groan as you watched them, Magda’s hands wrapped around Pernille’s waist as their tongues battled. As hot as the sight was, it only made you wetter as you realized that they were sharing the taste of you between them.

Even through your haze, you knew that, no matter how desperate your cunt was for their attention, you couldn’t let your fingers drift down between your legs. They had made it clear since you met that they held the reins of control, that you were their plaything for the night.

“Pernille,” said Magda, rocking her hips subtly as Pernille pressed a line of wet kisses along her neck.

“Look at her.”

Pernille’s eyes drifted back toward you, wriggling desperately on the bed, twisting your hands in their covers as you fought not to touch yourself.

“God,” said Pernille. “She’s desperate, isn’t she?”

You made no move to deny her claim, rather nodding in confirmation. Any shock or disbelief you had felt at the situation you were in had certainly vanished, replaced with pure, undiluted need.

“Please,” you whimpered, soaking pussy still perfectly visible between your spread legs. “Please, I need…”

You trailed off, the blush that was quickly becoming a familiar companion returning once again to your cheeks. Luckily for you, Pernille was able to translate the low moan which replaced the words you couldn’t find.

“I think she needs your cock, Magda.”

#woso #women's football #hardersson #magdalena eriksson #pernille harder #hardersson x reader #magdalena eriksson x reader #pernille harder x reader #magdalena eriksson x pernille harder x reader #woso x reader #woso smut #woso fanfics #woso imagine #fc bayern frauen #fc bayern frauen x reader #bayern munich women #bayern women x reader

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zwedexx · 3 months

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Hi I’m the anon that asked for the Barca x injured teen reader. Maybe you could do one where she is at a game and she breaks her wrist but no one else notices it so she keeps playing and after the game she leaves quickly and no one really thinks anything of it. So when she comes to practice the next day after she had taped her wrist they see her take medicine for the pain and they all ask why she took it but the coach calls them to the field before they can get it out of her. And then during practice she avoiding gõing shoulder to shoulder with anyone and anything related to her wrist. And when she tries to leave alexia grabs her wrist tõ stop her and then that obviously is painful for her and then she tries to say it’s just a bruised but they make her take the tape off and it’s clearly broken. So then they all scõld her and then take care of her.

Sorry if any wõrds are misspelled English isn’t my first language Portuguese is:)

Barcelona Femeni x Injured Teen Reader

Summary: request

TW: injury, pain medication

WC: 1,535

A/N: All the Catalan is google translated so sorry if its all wrong.

As you stepped onto the hallowed pitch of Camp Not, the atmosphere was electric with the anticipation of El Clásico. The sun had set behind the iconic stadium, casting a warm embrace on the sea of passionate fans draped in the famous Blaugrana. The buzz of excitement echoed through the air as you felt the weight of the historic rivalry pulsating through your veins.

In the 56’ minute, a breakaway opportunity unfolded before you. The crowd’s roars intensified as you sprinted past defenders. The rhythmic pounding of your heart echoes in your ears. The goal was within reach and there was no defender left.

BANG.

It took you and the crowd that had gone quiet a hot second to grasp what had just happened. Just as you prepared to unleash your shot, Misa had lunged forward with a desperate tackle. The impact was fierce, sending a shockwave through your body as you hit the ground, left arm first. You knew you had done something to your wrist, you could feel an odd sensation but the adrenaline hadn’t allowed the pain to kick in yet.

As you began to rise, a familiar and reassuring hand touched your shoulder. It was Alexia. She had a concern etched on her face. Alexia had taken you under her wing since the moment you joined Barca.

“Estàs bé?" she asked, her voice filled with worry.

(Are you alright)

You nodded yes not wanting to worry her.

“Estàs segura, necessites tractament?” she asked once more, clearly not convinced.

(Are you sure, do you need treatment?)

“I’m fine Alexia, prometo.”

(promise)

Alexia, though still not fully convinced, helped you up from the ground.

While you were down, Misa was sent off with a red card, and Barca was granted a penalty. Although you had anticipated Alexia would be the one to take the shot, she placed the ball on the spot and walked over to you.

“Llança el penal, et mereixes el gol." Alexia whispered to you.

(Take the penalty, you deserve the goal.)

You stepped up to the spot, the taste of adrenaline lingering on your tongue, as the weight of the moment settled on your shoulders. The stadium had seemed to hold its breath, and the intensity of this rivalry hung in its air. The replacement goalkeeper eyed you with a mix of anticipation and defiance as you took your stance.

Time seemed to stretch, and then, with a powerful strike, you sent the ball soaring into the back of the net. The roar of the crowd erupted and your teammates rushed in to celebrate. A surge of endorphins flooded your body, allowing you to completely forget about the painful feeling of your left wrist.

The deafening cheers echoed for a final time around Camp Nou as the the final whistle blew. The elation of the win washed over you, the exhilaration of success mingling with the exhaustion of the 90+ minutes.

However, as the adrenaline began to subside, the sharp pain in your leg wrist amplified. The celebration continued around you, teammates hugging and supporter chanting but the physical toll of the game lingered. Even the throbbing discomfort in your wrist, you soldiered on, smiling through the festivities, each handshake and hug causing you to wince. The pain continued to become more pronounced until you couldn’t take it anymore. You had completely ignored everyone during the group huddle, your only wish was to escape and find something to soothe your pain.

As your teammates continued their celebration, you quietly excused yourself, slipping away from them. The adrenaline that once fuelled your every sprint and kick now transformed into a quiet determination to reach the sanctuary of the changing room.

Sitting in your cubby, you cradled your wrist, wincing ever so slightly as you attempted to examine it. There was already a numbness in your fingers and a dark purple bruise forming around.

You didn’t want to tell the girls, you justified it as you not wanting to rain on their parades, so to speak but you were afraid of their reactions, and how’d they blow it all out of proportion.

With a deep breath, you carefully peeled off your jersey, feeling the residual warmth of the game against your skin. Even as you gingerly worked your way out of the uniform, the pain hadn’t subsided.

The next morning, the broken wrist made its presence known as you got ready for practice. The bruising had gotten worse and you had practically no sensation in your fingers.

You knew you couldn’t skip practice but you weren’t sure how you’d be able to hide your injury and practice with it. You had at least made the right decision to tape it, wrapping the across the palm, and snaking up your forearm. You’d also chosen to take a couple of paracetamols to mask the pain.

As you stepped into the locker room, the intricate tape job on your broken wrist didn’t escape the notice of your teammates. Their eyes flickered towards the your heavily wrapped-up wrist as you rummaged through your bag for medication as the dose you’d taken earlier began to wear off.

A curious silence fell over the room, broken by Mapi’s concerned voice.

“Una mica dur ahir a la nit, eh?” Mapi’s eyes focused on the tape, her expression a mix of worry and curiosity. Irene, Marta and Ingrid exchange glances realizing something wasn’t quite right.

(Bit rough last night huh?)

You dismissed it with a nonchalant shrug, hoping to not bring anymore attention. “Oh, just a knick, nothing major.”

The raised eyebrows and exchanged glances continued as your teammates weren’t convinced. Lucy leaned in, her voice both playful but concerned. “That’s some serious tape artistry. You’re practically a mummy.”

Attempting to defect, you chuckled, “Yeah, just want to be safe. No big deal.”

“Potser hauries de fer que el fisio t'ho revisi, només per estar-ne segur". Irene chimed in.

(Maybe you should have the physio check it out, just to be sure)

"Ignoring injuries doesn't help anyone elskling. We need you in top form for the next match." Ingrid added.

Alexia, who had been quietly observing, narrowed her eyes. She didn’t press the matter but her gaze lingered on your taped wrist.

Jonas saved you from further interrogation. His voice echoed through the locker room, calling everyone to the field. You seized the opportunity to divert attention and escaped.

During practice, you found yourself instinctively avoiding any situation that could potentially jeopardize your wrist. When Lucy threw ball at you, heading for your left side, you skillfully used your other hand to intercept it, earning a few puzzled glances from your teammates, especially Alexia.

In a passing drill, you subtly adjusted your positioning, ensuring that your injured wrist wouldn't bear the brunt of any unexpected tackles or collisions. The awareness of your own vulnerability cast a shadow over the otherwise routine exercises, and Alexia's concerned gaze intensified as she observed your every move.

Later, during a scrimmage, a teammate passed the ball to you with a bit too much force. You managed to control it with your good hand, but the wince didn't escape Alexia's watchful eyes. The unease among your teammates grew, their suspicions fueled by your efforts to shield the injured wrist.

As practice wrapped up, you made a discreet attempt to slip away hoping to avoid any direct confrontation about your wrist. Alexia, not done with questioning you, reached out and gently grabbed your injured wrist to stop you from leaving. The sharp intake of breath, small shout of pain and the involuntary flinch betrayed you.

"Què està passant? Has estat evitant el teu canell durant tota la pràctica. Deixa'm fer-li una ullada" Alexia asks with a strong authority.

(What happened? You've been avoiding your wrist the entire practice. Let me take a look at it.)

Still desperately trying to downplay the severity, you attempt a reassuring smile, “it’s just a bruise, really. Like I said, no big deal. Prometo.”

(Promise)

But Alexia was less than unconvinced.

“Deixa de mentir-me. Treu la cinta i ensenya'm el teu canell.” she demanded

(Stop lying to me. Take off the tape and show me your wrist.)

Reluctantly, not seeing a way out of it now, you began unwrapping the carefully layered tape. As the layers peeled away, it became ever more glaringly evident that it was far more than just a cruise. The visible swelling, discolouration and the cautious way you handled your wrist spoke volumes. Alexia’s expression softened immediately.

“Està trencada.” She stated with a gentle but stern certainty, her hand resting on your now exposed wrist. Alexia’s initial concern transformed into a mixture of disappointment and frustration as the reality of your broken wrist became undeniable.

(It's broken.)

“Per què no m'ho vas dir?” She questioned, her tone carrying a mix of hurt and anger. The weight of her disappointment was palpable, and it hit you harder than you’d expected.

(Why didn't you tell me?)

Caught in the crossfire of emotions, you couldn’t find the words to explain. The attempt to protect you teammates from worry had backfired, leaving you exposed and vulnerable. As Alexia’s frustration lingered, you gelt a torrent of emotions overwhelming you. The facade you had maintained crumbled, and you broke down.

Alexia, not intending to hurt you with her words immediately softened. She pulled you into a tight embrace, making sure you wrist was in a safe place.

"Anem a arreglar-te el canell. D'acord?” She guided you to the medical staff, her presence a silent reassurance amid your mental turmoil. The anger was replaced by a quiet understanding and her arms wrapped around your shoulders, offering comfort.

(Let's get your wrist fixed. Ok?)

#woso #woso x reader #woso fanfics #women's football #women's soccer #barca femeni #barcelona femeni #alexia putellas #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas x reader #mapi leon #mapi león #ingrid engen #irene paredes #aitana bonmati #lucy bronze #lucy bronze x reader #lucy bronze imagine

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lais-a-ramos · 9 months

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a very happy women's world cup to all who celebrate

#wwc 2023 #fifa women's world cup #fifa wwc #women's world cup #women's world cup 2023 #women's football #women's soccer

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lucawrites11 · 1 month

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Arsenal Players captaining England

this is arsenal's official list:

obviously there are some notable exceptions so here's who they missed:

(bold indicates they were permanent captain)

Leah Williamson: 22 games as Captain, 43 caps - 2021 - present [Captained England to their Euros win]

Jordan Nobbs: 2 games as Captain, 71 caps - 2015

Alex Scott: 1 game as Captain, 140 caps - 2013

Rachel Yankey: 2 games as Captain, 129 caps - 2010

Kelly Smith: 4 games as Captain, 117 caps - 2008

Mary Phillip: 17+ games as Captain, 65 caps - 2003-? [The first Black player to Captain the Lionesses]

Faye White: 48 games as Captain, 90 caps - 2002-2012 [Captained England at 4 international tournaments and to their first medal 🥈 at the 2009 Euros]

Debbie Bampton: 26+ games as Captain, 95 caps - permanent captain between 1985-1997 [oversaw the integration of the Lionesses into the FA in 1993, Captained England at their first World Cup in 1995]

Players who have played for Arsenal but we're England Captain while playing for another team:

Laura Bassett - 2 games as Captain

Ellen White - 3 games as Captain

Steph Houghton - 72 games as Captain

Casey Stoney - 19 games as Captain

Fara Williams - 11 games as Captain

not once does the article on Arsenal.com specify that it is referring to the men's team

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rashfordxbruno · 13 days

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The floor is yours, Barcelona and Man City.

#chelsea women #barcelona femeni #manchester city women #arsenal women #manchester united women #women's football

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tracksuitlesbian · 28 days

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Always the cutest

#not hd i know lol #alessia russo #arsenal wfc #arsenal #soccer #women's soccer #woso #women's sports #wospo #football #women's football

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beatrack92 · 22 days

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Alessia Russo (England)

EURO 2025 Qualifying

#alessia russo #team england #lionesses #engwnt #arsenal wfc #football #women's football #soccer

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soccersoccer · 3 months

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womantoday · 1 year

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cjmoreau9-blog:

I have a confession

I love studs. Masculine gals, what have you, I love it. I don't know why, but that is my type.

It's not weird and I'm just tired and making a big deal out of it right?

I'm tired. I can't function. Where ya at

masculine women

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themanbexl · 3 days

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She's gorgeous 😍

#woso #women's football #women's soccer #barca femeni #alexia putellas

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mischelmayleys · 2 months

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Why I didn't know this video existed?

#woso #women's football #fc barcelona #espwnt #woso community #jenni hermoso #alexia putellas #alexia putellas imagine #woso world

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soyouwinagain · 9 months

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morocco celebrate their first ever win at the women's world cup | 30 july 2023

#morocco wnt #wwc 23 #women's world cup #football #women's football #ibtissam jraidi #ibtissam jraïdi #nouhaila benzina #footballedit #sportsedit #worldcupedit #.mine

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zwedexx · 2 months

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"No ets una càrrega"

Barca Femeni x Teen Reader

Summary: request

TW: none

WC: 899

A/N: None of it is proof read and im am really sick rn so there will probably be alot of mistakes. Also I took some creative liberties ig with the request. I'm sorry if you don't like it. I can always rewrite later on.

You are draped in the familiar stripes of your Barca jersey. It was everything you wanted, everything you work so hard for and you were blowing it. You kept missing passes or being a second too late on your runs. You could hear the collective sighs of the crowd after each mistake you made.

It all came to a head when you execute what should’ve been a routine pass. The pass was short and was intercepted by an alert opposing player. In a sloppy attempt to halt the opposition, you kick the back of her legs, sending her tumbling. The ref immediately blowed her whistle and showed you yellow.

“Are you fucking serious. That’s not a yellow! She fucking dove. You can’t be- ” You spat at the ref before being pulled back by a pair of strong arms.

“Calmat! No val la pena.” Mapi’s words were strong but weren’t enough to bring you out of your rage.

(Calm down! It's not worth it)

“Let go of me Mapi. I’m not a fucking child. This ref is blind as shit and needs to fucking hear it.”

The ref without hesitation reach into her pocket. Alexia and Irene had run in at this point, pleading with the ref to reconsider. You knew you had fucked up when you say the second yellow then red. Not only had you harmed your team with your horrid performance but you’d just burdened them to finish a game a player down.

After being escorted off the field, the weight of disappointment settled on your shoulders, and as the door closed behind you, a wave of frustration and tears overwhelmed you. You couldn’t believe how stupid and useless you were. Nothing seemed to make sense, you had trained so hard but it wasn’t enough. You weren’t good enough. You needed to be better.

You found yourself in gym, it was the only thing that made sense. If you trained harder, you’d be better. It was straightforward, clear cut.

Unbeknownst to you, Alexia, Mapi, and Ingrid observe from a distance, concern etched on their faces. After the match they went looking for you, worried because you were no longer in the locker room. In a way you were lucky they were there. You had been sprinting on the treadmill as fast as you could. After a couple of minutes you felt dizzy, your legs were starting to give in but you kept going. And you kept going.

‘Keep going, keep going.” You muttered to yourself

As the treadmill relentlessly propels you forward, your breaths become ragged, and your legs wobble beneath you. In a sudden, unexpected moment, your knees buckle, and the world tilts. Just as the gym floor rushes up to meet you, someones arms wrap around you, preventing a painful collision.

Ingrid's firm grip supports your weight, preventing a full collapse, while Mapi and Alexia rush to your side. Concern etched on their faces deepens into genuine worry. Ingrid, with her characteristic calm, reassures you, “Relax elskling, I’ve got you.”

It must have been a few moments when you woke up again. You were no longer in the gym, you were lying on a couch with your head laying on Mapi’s lap.

“Oh Pequena, you are okay.” Alexia says in her best English

You sat up. You didn’t know what to say.

“Què està passant? Per què et vas empènyer així?” Alexia asks gently, reverting back to her native Catalan

(What's going on. Why did you push yourself like that.)

You avoided their eyes, unable to say respond, your words choked by shame and frustration.

“You don’t have to carry this alone. We’re here for you, no matter what elskling.” Ingrid adds, while grabbing your hand.

With a shaky breath, you finally open up, your voice tinged with frustration and vulnerability. “I just.. I want this so badly. And tonight, I felt like ai was letting everyone down. I felt useless, and I thought if I train harder, push myself, I could make up for it and get better.”

“Entenc-“

(I understand-)

“But you don’t understand Alexia. You’re la Reina, you are the best and you deserve to be here. I don’t, im a liability out there. Every misplaced pass, every late run, it felt like I was letting the entire team down.”

“You deserve to be here too. Jonatan picked you for a reason.” Ingrid adds

“You don’t get it! No matter how hard I try, it’s never enough. I’m sick of feeling like a burden. Sick of failing when it matters.”

“No ets una càrrega. Estem aquí perquè creiem en tu i en el que ets capaç.” Mapi chimes in while wrapping her arm around your shoulders, her touch grounding.

(You're not a burden. We're here because we believe in you and what you are capable of.)

“I just… I don’t know how to fix this.”

“No cal que arregleu això sol. Estem aquí per a tu.” Alexia calmly tells you.

(You don’t need to fix this alone. We are here for you.)

#woso #woso x reader #woso fanfics #women's football #women's soccer #barca femeni x reader #barca femeni #barcelona femeni #alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas #mapi leon #mapi león #ingrid engen

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lucybronzey · 5 months

Text

barcelona nights - lucy bronze

author's note: this one was requested by someone on twitter/x-letter app. feedback is always welcome! warnings: 18+! touchy-feely kind of, lots of fluff

In the vibrant city of Barcelona, where the rhythm of life pulsated through its bustling streets and the scent of the Mediterranean Sea wafted through the air, your existence seamlessly intertwined with Lucy Bronze's. The routine of training and shared moments had become an inseparable part of your lives, creating a mosaic of experiences against the backdrop of the city's iconic architecture and lively culture. Lucy, a formidable and dedicated footballer, and you, a supportive friend who shared her fervour for the sport, forged a connection that surpassed the boundaries of camaraderie.

As the morning sun bathed the city in a warm golden glow, you found yourselves navigating the streets of Barcelona in Lucy's sleek car. The vehicle, a symbol of your adventures and shared aspirations, carried you to the training ground, the hum of the engine becoming a familiar soundtrack to your journey. The city's energy infused your training sessions, the backdrop of palm trees and historic landmarks adding a touch of magic to the drills and practices. Lucy's skill on the field mirrored the dynamism of Barcelona itself and in those moments, the connection between you two deepened, the passion for the sport serving as a foundation for an unbreakable bond.

Beyond the confines of the football pitch, Barcelona became the canvas upon which your friendship flourished. The vibrant colors of the city mirrored the vibrancy of your shared experiences—the laughter echoing through narrow cobblestone streets, the animated discussions in quaint cafes, and the moments of quiet contemplation by the sea. The city's rich tapestry provided a backdrop for your friendship, each locale becoming a chapter in the story of your lives.

Lucy's car, weaving through the city's streets like a thread stitching together the fabric of your friendship, became a haven for shared confidences and unfiltered conversations. The routine of driving to and from training was more than a mere commute; it was a pilgrimage through the heart of Barcelona, where the engine's purr echoed the rhythm of your friendship. The vehicle, infused with laughter, dreams and unspoken understanding, became an extension of the bond that flourished between you two.

In those quiet moments after training, with the city lights casting a warm glow over Barcelona's skyline, you and Lucy found a unique solace in each other's company. The enchanting evenings became a canvas for shared meals in charming tapas bars, where the clinking of glasses and the vibrant chatter of locals provided a soundtrack to your evolving connection. Lucy, her eyes reflecting the city lights, would shoot you a cheeky grin across the table, teasing you about your favorite tapas or recounting amusing anecdotes from the day's training.

"Oi, Y/N, you sure you're not secretly Spanish? Your love for paella is getting suspiciously intense," Lucy would quip, a playful glint in her eyes as she reached for another bite of the savory dish.

You'd respond with a laugh, the banter flowing as effortlessly as the sangria.

"Maybe I've been hiding my Spanish alter ego all along. What can I say? Barcelona's influence is rubbing off on me."

The stolen glances between bites were charged with a subtle tension, an unspoken understanding that lingered in the air. As you navigated the labyrinthine streets after dinner, Lucy's hand brushed against yours, the contact sending a thrill through both of you. The city, with its timeless beauty, became a silent witness to the dance of emotions between two friends teetering on the edge of something more.

In the glow of Barcelona's night, the two of you often found yourselves at a quiet spot overlooking the city. The cool breeze from the Mediterranean played with strands of Lucy's hair and her gaze, softened by the city lights, held a warmth that spoke volumes. The unspoken tension, which had been humming in the background, finally took centre stage, and Lucy, her tone low and intimate, broke the silence.

"Y/N, you know there's something between us, right?" Lucy's words were a whispered confession, carrying the weight of the emotions that had been building between you. Her fingers traced patterns on the stone railing as she continued, "I feel it every time we're together, in the small moments that seem to stretch out forever."

You met her gaze, the unspoken tension giving way to a shared vulnerability. "Lucy, it's not just you. I've felt it too. These stolen glances and lingering touches, it's like we've been dancing around something."

A mischievous grin played on Lucy's lips as she closed the distance between you. "Maybe it's time we stop dancing around it, eh?" The city, now a silent conspirator in your evolving story, seemed to hold its breath as Lucy's lips met yours in a gentle kiss, the taste of sangria lingering on both of your lips.

The narrative of your friendship, etched against the backdrop of Barcelona's enchanting evenings, had taken an unexpected turn. Each shared sunset became a chapter in the evolving romance between you and Lucy, and as the city lights continued to illuminate your path, the unspoken tension transformed into a promise of something beautiful, something that blossomed like the bougainvillaea that adorned the streets of Barcelona.

As the kiss deepened under the glow of Barcelona's lights, the city itself seemed to pulsate with an electric energy, mirroring the intensity of the connection between you and Lucy. The soft Mediterranean breeze caressed your skin as Lucy's hands found their way to the small of your back, pulling you closer. The air between you crackled with desire, and in that heated moment, the unspoken tension erupted into a passionate flame that neither of you could deny.

Breaking away for a moment, Lucy's eyes locked onto yours, their intensity sending a thrill down your spine.

"Y/N," she breathed, the huskiness in her voice sending shivers through you. "I've wanted this for so long."

The narrow balcony, overlooking the city's expanse, became your intimate sanctuary. The fabric of Barcelona's night wrapped around you like a cloak of secrecy, shielding the clandestine affair unfolding between two friends turned lovers. The playful banter that had defined your friendship gave way to raw, unfiltered desire as Lucy's lips sought yours with an urgency that spoke of long-suppressed longing.

Her fingers traced a path along the contours of your body, the touch igniting a fire within you. The city lights painted a kaleidoscope of colors on your entwined forms, and in the embrace of the warm night, Lucy's lips moved from yours to explore the sensitive skin of your neck, leaving a trail of soft kisses that fanned the flames of desire.

"You feel so good, Y/N," Lucy murmured, her breath hot against your ear. Her hands, skilled and confident from years of precision on the football field, traced patterns of pleasure on your skin. The balcony, once a simple vantage point for admiring the city, became an arena of shared passion, where whispered confessions mingled with the ambient sounds of the night.

With each stolen kiss, the boundary between friendship and romance blurred, and you found yourself swept away by the intoxicating allure of Lucia Roberta. The city below seemed to hold its breath, offering an unspoken blessing to the union unfolding in its midst.

As the night progressed, the balcony became a tableau of unrestrained passion, a place where the heat of Barcelona's night mirrored the fiery connection between you two. The crescendo of shared desire reached its pinnacle, the city lights bearing witness to the unbridled intimacy that had blossomed from a friendship built on trust and shared moments.

As you and Lucy lingered in the afterglow, the city below continued its rhythmic dance, and the echoes of your shared passion reverberated in the quiet spaces between the buildings. Barcelona, with its timeless beauty, had become the backdrop for a love story that unfolded against the canvas of its enchanting nights, leaving behind a tapestry of shared moments and whispered promises that would forever colour the narrative of your relationship.

#mine #lucy bronze #lucy bronze x reader #lucy bronze one shot #lucy bronze imagine #woso community #women's football

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