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copper-16 · 27 days

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Hothead

Jule gets injured, and Lena tries to deal with her worry on top of the fact that she's still trying to keep it a secret that she's hopelessly in love with her best friend.

Luckily for her? Someone happens to feel the exact same way.

(a/n: Someone asked me MONTHS ago to write this...and well I'm like 6 months late but better late than never I suppose! Also I started writing this when Feli was still at Wolfsburg so she's still at Wolfsburg for the sake of I was too lazy to change what I had already written, take it or leave it.

I love getting to write Obi...so much. Like SO much! So much that I actually didn't edit this at all I just scrolled over it really fast and said MEH it's probably good to post (so sorry if there are mistakes). Also this is cross posted from ao3 because I'm pretty sure the request was sent on here, if I remember correctly. But anywho, enjoy!)

It was a dirty foul.

It was a really dirty foul, in fact, and pretty much all of the Wolfsburg girls are ready to throw hands when they see what has occurred.

Jule had been taking the ball up the right side of the pitch after Obi had sent her a lovely little long ball, when the Werder Bremen defender had gone right for her ankle instead of the ball. It was a crunching tackle, a dangerous and thoughtless one from the Werder player, and it sent the blonde winger tumbling to the ground with a cry of pain.

It was late in the game, they were up by one goal anyways, but as soon as Jule was hitting the ground, all hell broke loose. The Wolfsburg players were immediately going for the Werder defender who dared to hurt their golden girl, none leading the charge more than Lena.

The brunette was halfway across the field from Jule when she went down, but suddenly Lena was right next to Jule as she pressed her face into the grass, her ankle ringing with pain.

“Jule? Are you okay, should I get the medic?” Lena asks softly, her face close to Jule’s. The blonde can smell the patchouli and ylang-ylang of her perfume, and the way that Obi tugs her kit down from where it had ridden up before she placed her hand gently on the wingers back.

Jule hated the medic. She hated going down, didn’t want to hog attention away from the others, stop play, or force a substitution to be made unless it was absolutely necessary.

But the pain in her ankle isn’t subsiding in the way it should be, and she knows that she won’t be able to walk it off like she normally should. The blonde screwed her eyes shut in frustration as she nodded, moving to turn over on her side and eventually back as Lena began to flag down the team medic.

Which of course, happened to be the exact same time that the Werder defender decided to open her mouth, her words callous and unkind.

“Oh Jesus, why is she being such a baby? She’s fine, I hardly touched her,” the defender scoffed, and here’s the thing.

Lena knew that she had a reputation for how easily she found herself in the middle of a fight. It was a fair one, she knew that. The midfielder was the one most likely in her team to be found arguing with the referee, or to get into some sort of a brawl with another player, or something of the sort.

But her hot headedness in general paled in comparison to any sort of reaction that she had when it involved her blonde teammate.

It was a known fact at Wolfsburg that Lena and Jule just had an inexplicably close relationship. Ever since the winger had joined the German side, her and the midfielder had been completely inseparable.

For the older women in the team, the writing is on the wall, clear as day. But Jule is rather oblivious to the fact that her best friend is hopelessly in love with her. She would never imagine that Lena would actually reciprocate what she told herself was a silly little crush.

But it wasn’t just that, for either side.

Jule was gentle, maybe not always on the pitch but she was known for being incredibly sweet. Lena wasn’t exactly known for her saccharine like personality, but her and Jule just always seemed to work together. The midfielder was fiercely protective of the younger girl, whether that be batting away creepy men at clubs or making sure that she had eaten that day. It was the fact that they were complete opposites that seemed to make them work so well together, totally balancing one another out. Jule had this uncanny ability to calm Lena down, no matter what was occurring, whether it be in a game or when they are getting too competitive playing a board game with teammates. And in kind, Lena makes sure that Jule isn’t stepped on or bothered by anyone around her.

So for someone to say something like, something that is so blatantly rude and careless, all of the Wolfsburg girls were immediately turning to Lena, knowing what was about to happen.

“Oh you absolute BITCH–” Lena started as she turned toward the woman in a second, and she would have slammed right into her if it wasn’t for Feli, who wrapped her arms around the brunette at the last second and pulled her away.

“Not helping right now Miss Hothead,” Feli grunted out as she hauled Lena back with everything in her, the midfielder still practically snarling at the woman as she strained against her teammate heavily.

“Lena?”

The brunette turns on a dime at the sound of her name being called softly by the winger, and Feli nearly falls over at how quickly the midfielder moves away from her, completely abandoning her course of action in favor of turning toward Jule. It wasn’t very often that Jule used her real name as opposed to calling her Obi like the other girls, but when she did, the brown eyed girl knew to pay attention.

The blonde didn’t actually need the midfielder, but she knew that Lena was on the cusp of a yellow card, and the last thing she wanted to do was turn this into a card party, especially not when Lena had managed to make it through nearly the whole game without one.

“Are you alright?” Lena asked as she knelt down next to the winger, the anger wiped from her face in favor of a kinder, softer expression, the kind that was only reserved for Jule, and Jule alone.

Her eyebrows were knit together lightly, her head tilted to the side in worry as she looked down at her teammate, who shook her head slightly.

“It's a bad sprain or a possibly fracture,” Jule explained, parroting what the medic had told her as he nodded along. Lena hated the fact that she could tell Jule was trying not to cry, and it made her equal parts sad and murderously mad at the defender for causing the blonde to hurt this much.

“Help me up?” the blonde asked, breaking Lena out of her train of thought as she nodded. But the German midfielder was more than a little panicked, staring down at Jule who was looking at her with big, misty eyes, and clutching at her ankle.

The brunette hardly even thought about it, she simply acted. She didn’t think about the setting or the consequence, but rather on what was right in front of her.

The older girl reached down, hooking her arms around Jule’s back and under her knee, and lifting her into the air with a slightly scary lack of effort. Suddenly the blonde’s face was right in front of her own, and Obi could stare directly into the wingers eyes.

(Behind them stood Ewa, Alex, and Feli who, alongside thousands of fans, all but had their jaws on the ground)

But Lena isn’t focused on that, but rather the way Jule is looking at her, her eyebrows pulled together in concern. The wingers face is red, if not from exertion than from this interaction, and the midfielder can see the baby hairs that have loosened from her ponytail and frame her face.

“Obi?” Jule asked, her voice very soft, only loud enough for the brunette to hear.

“Yes?” She replied instantly, her heart jumping into her throat.

Sometimes Lena had these…moments with Jule, where she thought maybe it was possible that the other girl felt just as strongly as she did.

“I can walk…I–I need to walk off the pitch,” Jule said, louder this time, and Lena startled at her words, despite still holding the blonde safely in her arms.

The moment popped like a needle, and the brunette flushed an even deeper shade of red at the realization that she was definitely just kidding herself.

It simply wasn’t possible that Jule felt the same for her as she did.

“Right! Yes, well, here we are,” Lena said quickly very carefully lowering Jule to the ground and waiting for the medic to

Which left their teammates to watch the whole interaction, Alex, Ewa, and Feli still standing in a line as they looked back and forth between the winger and midfielder.

“Did she just–” Alex started, her voice incredulous as she was cut off.

“Yes.” Ewa says, never one to mince words.

“In the middle of a–” Feli tried this time, faltering when the Polish forward answered yet again.

“Yep.” The striker said again, and the three women were stuck standing there in amazement at what had just occurred.

“Hopeless lovesick idiots, the both of them!” Lynn whisper shouted as she walked past the trio from just behind them, her hand cupped over her mouth as though she was trying to be sly, despite the volume of her voice.

But neither Jule nor Lena heard their scheming teammates, both of them too focused on trying to get the winger off the pitch to be paying attention to their teammates. Obi helped Jule to wrap her arms around the shoulders of the medic as she hobbled off the field, Vivien taking her place on the pitch.

Lena doesn’t bother looking toward her coach, she knows that she won’t get a sub out, not this late in the game. But her heart isn’t really in it anymore, it’s back in the medical room where she knows that Jule is, probably getting an x-ray or something of the sort.

Not that it really matters though. Jule’s injury has sucked the energy out of the match as quickly as it had come, and it ends up being a passing game for Wolfsburg for the remaining few minutes of the game.

Meanwhile, Jule had just gotten situated on a bed in the medical room when Svenja had burst in the doors, her eyes searching for and immediately finding the blonde winger. The older woman hadn’t been playing, had only been sitting on the bench when Jule had gone down, and had instantly gone to get permission to go check on the younger German.

It wasn’t news to anyone that Svenja was absolutely the team Mom of the group, now even more so because she was an actual Mom. But she always made it her mission to look out for the younger girls, in whatever way she could.

Like when they got hurt, and she knew that they would likely be stressed and in pain. Jule can’t help the relief that washed over her when the door swung open to reveal Svenja, her eyes watering.

“Hey kid,” the forward soothed gently as she came to stand next to Jule, who swallowed thickly as she did her best to offer a smile, even if it came out as more of a grimace than anything else. It was Svenja who sat with her for the next twenty minutes as they ran more tests, brought in a portable x-ray machine, determining that it was a small fracture in her ankle. It was minor, she would likely be out for the next four weeks and in a boot, but it meant that she wouldn’t have to have surgery, which of course was good news.

The doctors had just given her a boot to wear as well as some crutches, slipping out of the room and leaving Jule to get down from the table, when they first heard it.

At first glance, it sounded like a commotion in the hallways, and Jule thought that maybe it was the girls celebrating the win.

But it only took a second for her to realize that was in fact not the case. It’s Obi’s voice that she hears, high and shrill. The midfielder sounds beyond stressed and panicked, and Jule feels her eyebrows furrow in concern at the noise.

“Where is sh–” Obi cuts herself off when she all but busts open the door to the med room, Feli hot on her heels.

“Jule!” the midfielder exclaims, her eyes widening as she realized that she had found the winger.

“Jesus, did we have to sprint the whole way?” Feli pants, following Obi into the room with sarcasm dripping from her tone. Svenja forces down a chuckle but Lena doesn’t even bother paying her any mind, her eyes wild with concern.

“Are you okay? What did the doctor say? Is everything alright? Do you need–” Lena started, only for Svenja to very quickly cut her off, sensing that the German midfielders' panicked energy was not what this room needed right now.

“Feli, could you help Jule with her boot and crutches while I talk to the lovely Ms. Oberdorf for a second?” Svenja said, a question that wasn’t really a question at all as she drug the brunette out of the room, leaving Feli and Jule both to stare after them, a little bit lost but shrugging all the same.

Svenja closed the door behind them, turning to Obi with a disapproving glint in her eyes.

“Okay, you need to get it together lover girl, because you can’t–” Svenja started, but Obi shook her head, pulling back in clear disagreement, her expression weak.

“Lover girl? I don’t even know what you’re talking abou–” she started, only for Svenja to double it and cut her off again.

“You can save the denial for someone who actually believes you. We all know you love that girl, it’s about as clear as a sky blue sunny day, but perhaps we aren’t ready to have that exact conversation. So for now, I need you to calm the hell down and rein it in. You’re here to help that poor girl relax, not to stress her out with a game of twenty questions. Understand?” Svenja asked bluntly, knowing that sweet talking her way with Obi wasn’t something that was really all that necessary.

The midfielder swallowed thickly before she nodded, her cheeks tinged with pink from embarrassment. But Svenja just pays her no mind, turning back toward the med room, where Feli and Jule were having a conversation of their own.

Obi had to give herself a bit of a pep talk before she went back into the room, and by the time she reenters the med room, Jule is upright with a boot and crutches.

“Lena, I’m going to take Jule home, would you like to come with us?” Svenja prompted, gesturing as subtly as she could toward Jule.

It didn’t matter either way, because her sentence was barely done before the midfielder was responding.

“Yes, absolutely!” Lena chirped out, her voice about two octaves higher than normal. Jule was a little pink in the face from using the crutches, but she still looked up with a quirked brow, entirely unimpressed with how fake her friend's voice sounded.

She chose not to comment on it further, her foot throbbing painfully inside the boot as she made her way slowly out to the car. The winger is so focused on her journey, in fact, that she hardly notices the way that Lena hovers behind her, just on the off chance that Jule stumbles and needs help.

She also entirely misses the several eye rolls from both Feli and Svenja as they walked out to the car, both women equally annoyed by their collective cluelessness.

Not my circus not my monkeys, the defender mouthed to the forward, whose face immediately dropped in indignation.

“Yes it is!” She exclaimed, shooting a dazzling (and decidedly fake) smile at both Obi and Jule when they turned back around, equally confused by the seemingly random words.

But Feli waved them off, a thrilled grin on her face at Svenja’s little outburst. The defender helped get Jule into the forward's car before saying goodnight to her teammates and heading back to her own apartment. Lena followed Svenja’s car in her own, figuring it would be good for them to have possible means of transportation if they needed anything.

It was Svenja who helped Jule instead, getting her set up on the couch and dolling out pain medication before she began to go over the list of what to do with Lena.

She didn’t bother with asking the brunette if she was staying with Jule, she just…always had been. There was no use in denying the inevitable, really.

“Okay, and you call me if you need anything, alright? Even if it’s the middle of the night,” Svenja told Jule, who gave her a small smile and a nod.

“Yes, yes, of course Mom. Thank you for everything today,” the blonde replied softly, and the older woman squeezed her arm affectionately before seeing herself, leaving only the winger and midfielder in Jule’s apartment.

It was hardly the first time that Lena had been here, quite the opposite really. The two of them were practically inseparable, and spent most of their time together, at one of their two apartments.

Obi was so used to Jule’s apartment, the younger girl practically considered her a roommate. The second bedroom had a dresser with her clothes in it and a toothbrush for her in the bathroom, so it wasn’t that big of a stretch honestly.

But for some reason the midfielder can’t seem to sit still today, floating around the apartment doing odds and ends, asking Jule if she needs something every few minutes (seconds, really), and exerting a rather tumultuous energy over the whole place.

After about fifteen minutes, Jule sighs heavily. And right on key, Lena appears by her side, looking down at her with wide eyes.

“What! What is it?” She asks breathlessly, having run in from the kitchen. Jule shakes her head, her expression set with exasperation that masks the hurt she’s beginning to feel.

“Lena, if you do not want to be here you can just go home! I broke my foot, not my entire body, I do not need a babysitter,” Jule huffs out, having mistaken Lena’s nerves for annoyance.

But she’s surprised by the way that the brunette’s face falls, and she instantly settles down on the couch next to her teammates, shaking her head.

“No, no, there is nowhere else I want to be, I promise. I just…I don’t…” Lena trails off, struggling to find the words. Her face is screwed with indecision, and it makes the wingers heart leap into her throat.

“You don’t…what?” Jule prompts lightly, her voice light and barely audible. It sounds rather breathless, and she hates herself for a moment by how much her voice gives her hopes away. She prays Lena won’t pick up on it…or maybe she prays that she will.

Obi looks over at the blonde, her heart thumping in her chest. Jule is looking at her with an entirely unreadable expression, and for just a moment the brunette wonders if it would even be possible for her friend to feel the same way that she does.

She couldn’t explain her attraction to Jule, nor could she articulate how strong it was. It felt like the winger was the sun, and the brunette was simply made to orbit around her.

Everything was better when Jule was there. Her laugh, her smile had this completely contagious property, and it made Obi feel lighter, happier, better.

She made Lena better, just by being herself. She was warm and kind where the midfielder was callous and gruff. She was soft and forgiving, forcing Lena to relax and give herself some grace.

It wasn’t something she could explain, because how on earth are you supposed to describe the one person in the world who means everything to you?

Lena opens her mouth, her feelings on the tip of her tongue. They’ve been sitting there for a now awkwardly long period of time, the silence clinging to them both, hanging in the space between them. Jule is staring back at her, her jaw clenched shut, her teeth clenched with a nervous anxiousness, wondering if this is the moment where everything will change.

But doubt creeps into the brunette’s mind, and the thought of confessing flees her mind as quickly as it comes.

“I just don’t know what to do to help you feel better, that's all,” Lena finally says lamely, and it takes everything in Jule for her expression not to drop in disappointment, swallowing the feeling and offering a smile instead.

“You make me feel better just by being here,” she admitted, and it was the truth, if not the entire truth.

Was it lying, if it was a lie of omission?

Jule isn’t sure. She isn’t sure what she’d rather be: filled with regret because she never said anything, or filled with regret because she had.

“But if you’re just going to sit here with two working feet I wouldn’t say no to a sandwich,” the blonde tacked on at the end, the breath stolen from her lungs at the way Lena’s face lit up, a laugh tumbling from her mouth.

“You got it, coming right up!” She announced as she hopped up from the couch, leaving Jule to her thoughts.

Just as she often did, the German winger spent the next few minutes mulling over the pros and cons list that had only grown as time dragged on.

To tell her best friend that she was in love with her, and risk all of the fall out if she didn’t feel the same? Or never tell her, and simply live with what could have been, if she was a little less scared?

It seemed like an easy choice when she framed it like that, but the actual implications of her actions somehow seemed so much larger.

She’s so lost in thought, that she hardly notices Lena coming back with food for them both, until the midfielder is placing her hand gently on Jule’s thigh. The touch causes the blonde to jump, and Lena retracts her hand just as quickly, as though she’s been burned.

“Sorry, sorry,” the midfielder is quick to say, but Jule shakes her head emphatically.

“No apologies, please. I was just lost in thought…about my foot! About my foot, I was thinking about my foot!” Jule explained, seeming a little too happy to be thinking about her foot when the person on the receiving end of her words doesn’t realize its a coverup.

But really, what was she supposed to do? It wasn’t like she could just tell Lena how she felt, right here and right now.

“Thank you for the food,” the blonde rushes to say instead, and the two fall into gentle chatter as they eat their food. Jule is honestly glad for the distraction, would rather do anything other than talk about her injury right now.

She’s lucky it wasn’t worse, that it wasn’t badly broken, or required surgery, but it still sucked to be injured regardless.

The winger knew that she was lucky to have Lena to sit here and make her laugh, to drop whatever she had been doing to be here. So amidst her confusion over whether to admit her feelings, still her gratitude toward the midfielder balloons in size.

When Jule leaned forward to put her plate on the coffee table, Lena is looking at her closely.

“What else do you need? What can I get you?” The older girl asks, and Jule shakes her head slightly, a soft smile on her face.

“I’m fine Obi, I don’t need anything else. I honestly just kind of want to go to bed,” Jule admitted, and Lena nodded, before looking down with a furrowed brow at the blonde’s boot.

“What?” Jule asks with a tiny chuckle, loving the fact that she could see Lena’s brain work in real time, as if she was working out a very complex math problem and not staring at her teammates foot.

“That thing has to hurt to walk on, doesn’t it?” Obi asked, and Jule shrugged before admitting that while it was a bit painful, it was manageable.

But that seemed to do nothing but displease the midfielder further, and before Jule could hardly say a thing in response, Lena was reaching forward, and just as she had on the football pitch, picking the blonde up.

Only, in this instance it was a tad more appropriate than it had been earlier in the day.

“Oh! Lena, what are you doing?” Jule asked with a laugh, still amazed that the brunette could pick her up with such ease, with so little effort.

The midfielder rolled her eyes, carefully navigating them around the couch and toward the stairs.

“Clearly I’m using the fact that I have two working legs to flex on you! Now, what do we say?” Lena teased, throwing on an overly saccharine and fake tone that is clearly meant to get Jule to laugh. Not that she cares, because it works easily. She tips her head back slightly, content when her teammates catches the change of weight easily.

When she leans back in she’s still giggling, but when she opens her eyes she finds that her face is a lot closer to Lena’s than she had anticipated. The younger girl swallows roughly, blinking several times to try to rid her expression of surprise.

Lena’s brown eyes are staring at her pensively, softly. The sense of gentleness that her gaze held was one that had always just been reserved for Jule, and here it was, just for her.

As brash and argumentative as Obi could be, there was no one in the world who could cause her to soften quite like Jule Brand.

The older girl clears her throat after a second, focusing on continuing up the stairs and into the bedroom.

The next few minutes are filled with getting themselves situated and ready for bed, teeth brushes and sink showers attempted because the thought of having to stand on one leg to shower sounded like hell on earth.

But there was Lena, always there to hold her up and make her smile, even when she was just doing mundane tasks like brushing her teeth.

They switch her boot out for an ankle brace, to give her some support without being too restrictive. Lena shoves a pillow down at the end of the bed gracelessly, before gently propping up Jule’s foot with great care. The two acts are entirely juxtaposing of one another, and they make the blonde giggle as she settles into her bed, the flush that coats Obi’s cheeks as a result not lost on her.

“Will you stay with me?” Jule looked up at Lena, her face filled with uncharacteristic worry. It was hardly a question she needed to ask, and the answer from her teammate is both immediate and automatic.

“Of course,” she replied, moving to turn the light off and climb into bed next to her best friend.

But it’s only after the lights are turned off, and the comfort of darkness has descended on them both, that they are able to finally admit what’s been on the tip of their tongues for weeks now.

The fact that’s probably both surprising to the two of them is that it’s Jule, and not Lena, who says something first, her boldness coming out of nowhere even if it didn’t last for more than a single word.

Lena was laying on her back, staring up at the ceiling from her spot on the left side of the bed. Jule laid on the right side, turned on her left side so that she was facing her teammate, which was how she usually slept when there wasn’t anyone in her bed anyways.

The winger can just barely make out the brunette’s profile, the bridge of her nose and the sharp edges of her jaw, her chest rising and falling shallowly, heartbeat quickened by whom she was in proximity of.

“Lena?” Jule asked, her voice quiet. It was rare for her to say the midfielders actual name, and Lena’s heart skips a beat at the question.

“Yes Jule?” She responds, her voice equally soft.

“I–” Jule opens her mouth to say more, and finds that she isn’t sure what to say.

It’s an uncomfortable reality, to realize that you care so greatly for another person in life that you find yourself unable to fully elucidate your feelings.

But before she can even try again, Obi is cutting her thought process off softly.

“Can I be honest with you about something?” The brunette asks, struggling to keep her throat open enough to explain how she’s feeling.

“Yes,” the blonde replies instantly, her words filled with relief and hope, and it’s her tone and that alone that spurs Lena on, that allows her to say what she’s been feeling for months.

“When we were downstairs and we were talking before and I paused I…I wasn’t brave enough to say it but I can now,” she began, taking a very slow breath before continuing. “I think I love you, Jule.”

“You think?” The winger asked, her voice small but neutral in its tone. Lena swallows roughly at the sound, wondering if she’s made a big mistake.

But it’s too late now to think about that, so instead she forges ahead.

“No, not I think. I know I love you, and I have for months now. Maybe ever since I met you,” Lena admits, finally turning her head to look at Jule. The blonde is sitting in bed on her side, facing the older girl.

When the brunette turned toward her, the winger reached out with her hand, running her fingers gently over the midfielders cheek until she was cradling her jaw.

“I love you too,” Jule whispered into the space next to them, and she can feel rather than see the tear that slips down Lena’s cheek, the wetness seeping into her palm. The midfielder turns her head, pressing an impossibly soft kiss to the inside of Jule’s wrist.

The brunette moves with such gentleness and care, it physically feels as though the blonde’s heart will burst from how in love with Lena Oberdorf she is.

Obi moves lightly, but with purpose nonetheless, as she gathers Jules into her arms and finally, their two bodies are pressed together softly.

The winger tucks her body into Lena’s, not caring that her foot protests at the movement as she’s engulfed in Lena’s scent and the warmth of her body. Jule tucks her head into the midfielders neck, clutching to the brunette as Lena’s hands bring her close, keeping her safe.

The sigh of relief that they both let out happens at the same time, as the comfort of finally being pressed together is realized. Jule cuddles into Lena, feeling sleep pull at her, the worry of her feelings not being returned now swept away like a leaf in a strong current.

“I love you,” Jule murmured into Lena’s neck, the soft puff of air tickling the brunette’s skin in the best possible way. She smiled softly, tightening her grip imperceptibly.

“I love you more,” Lena promises, pressing a kiss to Jule’s temple as they melt into one another, sleep coming to claim them both in the darkness of the blonde’s bedroom.

There is still so much to talk about and discuss properly, sure, but for the night nothing else matters, except the fact that neither of them can really tell where the one ends, and the other one begins.

#lena oberdorf #jule brand #svenja huth #feli rauch #vfl wolfsburg women #ewa pajor #woso #lynn wilms

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pitchsidestories · 2 hours

Text

part of me wants forever II Sara Doorsoun x Barça!Reader

masterlist I word count: 1672

a/n: hi, it's inspired by this request here, we hope the time jumps aren't too confusing. Let us know what you thought of the oneshot.

This was how it all begun. You didn’t expect your love story to start on an ice-cold evening in November after your team has played a Champions League group stage game against Eintracht Frankfurt, but it did.

“Sara, this is y/n. Y/n, this is Sara.”, Ingrid introduced you to each other, her eyes were shining as the stars above you in the night sky. Maybe it was written somewhere up there, what would be happening in the following days, weeks and months.

You knew the person you fell for would say that it was fate which brought you two together. But for you it was Ingrid who did.

“Hi, Sara, nice to meet you.”, you greeted her smiling.

“Nice to meet you too.”, the older defender replied. The brown eyes who wee looking back at you were so beautiful like the person to whom they belonged too, they were something you could get lost into if this wasn’t an away game and you’d have to leave soon to the hotel you were staying at.

“You guys played really well.”, you complimented Sara in an honest tone. It was true, especially in the first half they had a stellar performance, in which Laura Freigang scored the opening goal, but in the second half your team turned it around and you won fairly comfortably with a 3:1.

“Thank you. So did you.. obviously.”, the german player answered with an amused grin on her lips.

“Y/n, we got to hurry up!”, Mapi reminded you impatiently.

“Don’t worry, Mapi. I’m coming.”, you reassured her, trying to shake off her fingers on the hood of your jacket.

“See you soon.”, Sara waved at you.

“I literally can’t wait.”, you told her. Even though you only shared some polite words with each other you had a feeling that this wasn’t the end of your script together.

On the next day your team was on the way home, the bus taking you from the Barcelona airport to the place where your cars have been parked.

“Y/n?”, Ingrid looked up from her phone to turn her attention towards you who was sitting on the seats opposite of Mapi and her.

“Yes?”, you responded, lifting your gaze from the book you were currently reading.

“Sara messaged me.”, the Norwegian informed you, wearing a mischievous smile on her face.

“You mean Sara as in the cute Frankfurt defender.”, you replied innocently.

“Who else, genius!”, Fridolina laughed, sitting right behind you, she and Ingrid had to play with the player during their times in Wolfsburg.

“Do you know how many Sara’s there are?!”, you asked the Swedish player.

“Yes, but none of them looked at you the way she did. So, what was in Sara’s message, Ingrid?”, Fridolina stated.

Ingrids face split into a wide grin as she read the message on her phone screen: “She asked for her number.“

“You know what? You can give her my number.“, you said in a burst of courage that made Ingrid only smile brighter.

“I’ll.“

“Thank you.“

You watched the Norwegian type on her phone. “You’re welcome.“

Sara had immediately texted you that night. And as the months had passed, texting her became a daily habit for you. From good morning to good night, you shared your free-time with her. You haven’t felt that connected with someone for a long time.

One day you decided to jokingly text her about your shared taste in music, not expecting anything from it.

“Fletcher has a concert in Barcelona. You should come with us, Sara.“

“To a Fletcher concert?“, she wrote back, seemingly unimpressed.

“Yes, Jana got tickets.“, you answered.

You waited impatiently, the three dots appearing as she typed.

“I can’t say no to that.“, appeared on your phone screen.

You smiled happily: “Perfect.“

A few weeks after your text conversation, you found yourself at the concert, singing along while Sara had her arms wrapped around you. It was a casual gesture as you swayed from side to side with the rhythm.

Jana rolled her eyes: “Ugh, stop, you two lovebirds!“

“We’re doing nothing!“, you laughed, full of innocence.

“Literally.“, Sara agreed, continuing to move you with her.

Jana pulled out her phone: “Wait, let me at least take a picture of how annoying you two are.“

She snapped a few photos, a fond smirk on her face. You turned your attention back to the singer. This night was perfect and you wanted to enjoy every moment of it.

The Fletcher concert was something you liked to think back to during your busy football season.

The same was true for the biggest game of the season, the Champions League final. As expected, it was a tight game, Lyon made it hard to get through their defense. Only Aitana and Alexia found a way. So when the final whistle sounded, you were overcome with a mix of relief and happiness.

You hugged your teammates tightly, still processing what you had just achieved when Ingrid tapped you on the shoulder and pointed towards the stands. “Y/n, look who came.“

You only blinked at her for a moment before your gaze finally followed the direction of her hand gesture.

Saras face grinned at you from the stands. The sight of her was enough to make your heart pound in your chest.

You left Ingrid standing and ran over to Sara, stopping right in front of the Frankfurt defender: “Sara, I thought you couldn’t be here?!“

She only flashed you a wry smile: “Change of plans.“

“That’s amazing.”, you muttered, exchanging a short, but soft kiss with your girlfriend.

“You’re welcome.”, Sara smirked at you, as she wrapped her arms around you into a hug.

Mirroring the happiness Laura Feiersinger appeared next to her former Frankfurt teammate:” I almost lost her at the place when they sold the cake.”

“Very typical.”, you giggled, it was no secret that your lover has a sweet tooth.

Nervously Sara put a loose string of hair behind her ear:” That’s not true.”

“Sure.”, the Austrian midfielder smiled amusedly.

“It just looked so delicious.”, the German player defended herself, while a blush crept onto her high cheekbones.

“To be fair it did.”, Laura admitted.

“See?”, Sara responded satisfied.

“Well, I do.”, you tuned into their conversation, before your girlfriend kissed you, to celebrate the Champions League win properly.

Having Sara with you during all the chaos which was going on in the night was very special to you. In the morning you two chose to go on a walk to see a bit of the city. It amazed you to watch your girlfriend being so in peace with herself.

The defender was a warm person and over the weeks you’ve been together she started to share some pieces of herself and her history which you found admirable. Her late coming out, a father who wasn’t saying anything against that, but also didn’t like to talk about it anymore.

The heartbreak Sara felt when the first woman she fell for broke up with her. It impacted her so much that during an important game she scored an own goal. And her questioning if she could ever fall in love like that again? The German player knew the answer now, she was capable of loving again, you showed her how.

Fast forward and it was time to be with your national teams again, you both couldn’t wait for the upcoming free days afterwards which you planned to spend together.

“Sara, we got to talk.”, Lena Oberdorf yelled at the older woman who just sat down with Felicitas Rauch in the dining room of the hotel they were staying at.

“About what?”, Sara frowned who didn’t know her best friend in the team knew what the young midfielder was thinking about.

“I was suspecting you fell in love again, but now Obi found proof of it multiple ones.”, the fellow defender who played in the USA explained with a cheeky smile on her lips.

“What are you talking about?”, the Frankfurt player asked her teammates innocently.

“You and y/n, who football wise is so out of your league.”, Lena replied grinning.

“Beauty wise too.”, Felicitas added in a teasingly tone.

“Excuse me? That’s not what friends are supposed to say.”, Sara protested, her mouth formed to a little pout.

Felicitas smiled apologetically: “Just kidding… but playing wise not. She’s at the best football club in Europe!“

“And she and her team won against you this season. Twice.“, Lena added, rubbing salt into the wound.

“I’m aware of that.“, Sara shrugged unimpressed.

“Just a friendly reminder.“, Lena said.

Sara rolled her eyes: “That doesn’t mean we can’t go out.“

“True. I guess she’s the reason you can’t visit me in the US in your free time?“, Felicitas asked, casually changing the subject.

“That’s not true! You’re always busy!“, Sara protested.

Her best friend raised her eyebrows: “So are you apparently!“

“It’s not because of her. I’m still a football player.“, Sara explained, cringing at the thought of how packed both of their schedules were.

“I know that. So when will you introduce me to her?“, Felicitas continued.

Sara only groaned in response.

In the evening, you were on the phone with Sara as she recounted the details of the talk she had with her teammates.

“So they know about us now?“, you concluded, a smile on your lips.

“Yes, apparently we’re on Ingrids photo dump.“, Sara replied with a laugh.

You shook your head about your Norwegian teammate: “Ingrid might have done that on purpose. Sorry for that.“

“Typical.“, Sara sighed, slight fondness for her former teammate sneaking into her voice.

“She said she had a feeling when she introduced us and I believe her.“

“There’s no way!“

You sucked in your breath in feigned shock: “And I thought you were the romantic!“

“Oh, I am. I just like to think that it was fate.“, Sara replied. You could almost hear the wink through the phone.

Lowering your voice, you whispered: “Me too. I want this to be forever.“

pictures are from pinterest.

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