World Cup VI
Hardersson x Daughter!Reader
Natalia Guijarro (OC) x Hardersson!Reader
Part of The Big Adeventures Universe
Summary: It's heartbreaking
It's the worst kind of pain imaginable.
The kind of pain that lodges in a chest, in a throat, in a mind. The kind of pain that radiates throughout a body, weighing on someone, eating away at them until there's nothing left.
Eaten from the inside out.
Until there's nothing left but an empty husk of a person.
To be so close to a dream that will never be reached.
Not now.
Not ever.
It chokes someone from the inside, suffocating them until they can do nothing but accept their fate.
There's not much else to say about it.
The kind of pain that is only really experienced once in a lifetime.
The kind of pain only experienced in extra time of a football match as one last substitute is made.
The board goes up.
"On for number fourteen, number one for Sweden, Harder-Eriksson."
The final of a World Cup.
Sweden, two.
Spain, two.
And the worst person to take penalties against is subbed on.
"No," Talia says as she watches you run on," No, please. Please."
You'd taken a knock in the semifinals against Colombia, a bad one that had you sitting out most of the final.
Selfishly, Talia was glad for it.
The two goals she had scored wouldn't have gone in had you been standing between the sticks.
Had you been on in the beginning, there would have been no extra time.
You are the greatest goalkeeper in the world and you're never out of control in finals.
You thrive under the pressure, under the pressure of the whole world watching your every mood, under the pressure of Magda and Pernille's legacy.
You rise to the occasion every time.
You show why you are so sought after.
Extra time leaks away and the tears already fall as penalties are announced.
Your Sweden team isn't known for their penalty-taking abilities but it hardly matters. All it takes is one penalty to win.
One ball in the back of the net.
You can delay that for as long as you need to.
One goal to win a match.
One goal for a childhood dream to shatter.
One missed save to return to Spain as a World Champion.
But you have never let a penalty passed in your entire career.
Not at Linköping. Not at Arsenal. Not at Barcelona.
Not for Denmark. Not for Sweden.
No penalty has ever escaped you.
The shots are taken in quick succession.
You don't let any pass but neither does Spain's keeper.
The anticipation swells. The tension builds. The camera flashes to fans in the crowd.
To Patri, sitting in the stands with her hands clasped in front of her and a nervous look on her face. Talia has never seen her cousin so shaken before.
She cuts a striking picture against the complete calmness of Magda and Pernille when the camera switches again. They don't look worried in the slightest.
They've always been your biggest supporters, the biggest believers in your ability to do anything you set your mind to. They've seen the talent in you for years.
There is no reason for them to be worried.
Talia takes the ball, the last penalty for Spain.
She steps forward.
You come out of your goal, walking forward towards her until you're face to face.
The conflict is clear on your face.
To anyone else, you look deadly calm. Magda's feature on your face matches your mother's expression in the crowd but Talia can see through it.
The slight furrow of your brow, the downturn of the corner of your mouth. The way that you can't quite meet her eyes.
"I'm sorry," You say as she places the ball on the penalty spot.
"I know," Talia replies.
"I am really sorry, my love. I...I didn't want it to end like this."
"Don't be. Go do what you do best."
Talia's dreams of a World Cup slip through her fingers in an instant. She usually shoots right, in the top corner. This time though, she'll shoot left to the bottom.
Pernille sits up in the stands as you back away from Talia, returning to your line.
The stadium holds its breath.
A home World Cup win would mean the world to Sweden. To defeat the hosts would mean the world to Spain.
But you stand in their way.
A formidable force between the sticks with more experience than most your age and an unshakeable spirit that intimidates by just your mere presence on the pitch.
"She's got this," Magda whispers to her, clasping Pernille's hand tight," Even if it is Talia."
The stadium ripples with anticipation, shouts escaping throats as Talia lets the ball fly...
Your familiar red jersey moves, your black gloves reaching out.
Your body crashes to the ground.
A millisecond too late and the ball would have gone in.
Your fingertips manage to brush it away though, forcing it away from your line.
The knock to Spain's confidence is big.
It can be felt all around the stadium and just a box away, Pernille sees Patri bury her head in her hands.
Sweden's last penalty is taken quickly.
Scored even quicker by your captain.
A title defended on home soil. The triumph of Sweden over Spain.
The crowd is electric and Magda pumps her fist into the air, screaming like she'd just won this herself and Pernille hauls herself out of her seat to head down to the barriers with her wife to greet you.
The crowd is nothing compared to the roaring in Talia's ears as that pain settles into her bones and gnaws away at her muscles.
She falls to the floor, breathing in a ragged breath as a childhood dream slips away from her.
"I'm sorry," She can hear over her sobs," My love, I'm so sorry."
Familiar arms wrap around her. A familiar smell filling her senses and she grabs onto a familiar red jersey, pulling at it and forcing herself even closer.
"Go," She says," And celebrate."
"No," You reply, sitting down next to her and guiding her head to your shoulder where she could cry without cameras watching her," I'm staying right here."
"Your mothers-"
"Can wait," You insist," I want to be here. With you."
You've singlehandedly ruined Natalia's dreams. You had dangled a World Cup in her face and snatched it away again.
It was so close.
She was so close to being the first person to ever score a penalty against you.
Mere inches sat between her and the World Cup.
But you'd ruined it. You anticipated her change. You pushed away her penalty.
Last time, you'd scored Sweden's only goal. This year, you'd saved all of Spain's penalties.
You are Sweden's hero. Sweden's golden girl. Sweden's vice-captain and the greatest goalkeeper they've ever produced.
There is no hope of competing against you.
A World Cup won and a World Cup lost.
Magda and Pernille wait by the barrier. Talia can see them, ready to celebrate with you.
But you don't go anywhere.
You just hold her as she cries.
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