Head over heels - Ingrid Engen

Summary: 4 times Ingrid and Y/n almost confessed their feelings, and 1 time when they actually did.

..

1. The beginning.

Y/n didn't imagine she'd end up as Ingrid Engen's neighbour when she first signed up to teach the U12 girls at La Masia.

In fact, she hadn't expected much of anything—just another job, a few classes, maybe some peace and quiet.

She definitely hadn't expected to form a friendship with Ingrid.

Y/n knew nothing about football. She didn't keep up with it, didn't even know who Ingrid Engen was.

That changed the day she casually mentioned Ingrid's name in class, and the girls let out the highest-pitched scream she had ever heard.

That's when she learned Ingrid Engen was royalty.

Both in Barcelona and Norway.

Although, honestly, it didn't look like it. Not when Ingrid had shown up at her doorstep with a bag of fresh cookies, introducing herself and welcoming Y/n to the building with a shy smile.

Not when her washing machine broke and she had to use Y/n's for a week, leaving behind her weird Norwegian detergent that smelled like pine trees.

Ingrid was nice. Kind of awkward, really pretty, and... normal.

Y/n liked that.

It was one of those nights that felt like it would never end.

The streets outside were quiet, and the soft hum of the city was the only sound drifting in through the open window of Ingrid's apartment.

Y/n sat on the sofa, her legs tucked beneath her, and Ingrid was sprawled across the floor, head resting on a pillow.

They had spent hours talking about Y/n's class, Ingrid's training—like they always did. But tonight, something felt different.

There was something quieter between them, heavier.

Not uncomfortable, just... lingering.

Ingrid could feel it in the way her pulse sped up every time Y/n laughed a little too loudly, her entire face glowing like it didn't even know how to hold back.

"So, how are you feeling? You've got a game tomorrow, right? A big one?" Y/n asked, glancing over at her with the kind of attention that made Ingrid's stomach twist.

Ingrid shrugged, trying to stay casual.

"Hmm, yeah. It's the last game of the league." She paused, and her voice dropped a little. "It's kind of a big deal."

Y/n nodded slowly, her eyes still on Ingrid.

They had been friends for a few months now, but every time their gazes held like this, it felt like something was shifting.

Like something was almost—almost on the verge of being said.

Ingrid wondered, just for a second, if Y/n felt it too, if maybe she was about to say something important.

Something real.

But the moment passed.

"You'll have a good game, I know it," Y/n said eventually, her voice light. "The kids keep telling me to remind you to close the end on your right, though."

Ingrid huffed a quiet laugh, her smile soft. "Tell the girls I'll put it into the plan."

2. The Café

It was one of their usual spots—a quiet café tucked between a bakery and a bookstore, with uneven chairs and coffee that always came a little too hot or a little too cold.

Y/n sat across from Ingrid, halfway through her drink and animatedly retelling her day, hands moving with each sentence.

"So, how are the kids?" Ingrid asked, her chin propped on her hand, watching Y/n with a soft smile.

Y/n leaned back in her chair, sipping from her mug.

"Unhinged, mostly," she said, grinning. "But there's this one girl...Selena she's ten. She's already convinced she's going to be Spain's next starting goalkeeper."

Ingrid raised a brow, amused. "I'll tell Cata she's got competition."

"No, listen," Y/n said, leaning forward like she was about to reveal a secret. "She caught a paper ball someone threw at her from across the room. Without looking. Mid-lesson. Didn't even flinch."

Ingrid laughed, eyes lighting up. "Alright, I'm sold. Sign her up."

Y/n smiled at that, her gaze lingering a second too long. "She reminds me of you a little."

Ingrid tilted her head, eyebrow raised. "Because I catch rogue paper balls? I'm sorry, I know you're not that good at football, but I'm a defender."

Y/n snorted, ignoring Ingrid's last statement. "Because she's confident. And calm. And kind of annoyingly good at everything."

There was a pause.

Not awkward, exactly—just quiet.

Ingrid looked at her for a second longer than necessary, and Y/n suddenly realised how close they were sitting.

The café buzzed faintly around them, but the warmth between them made everything else feel muted.

"Also," Y/n added, teasing, "she told me she thinks your hair is cool. So, you know. Icon status or whatever...."

Ingrid's smile curled up at the corners, soft and amused. "Well, I try."

The silence lingered again.

Ingrid opened her mouth like she might say something else, but Y/n reached for her cup too fast, nearly knocking it over.

"Okay, I definitely don't need more caffeine," she said with a laugh, cheeks warm.

Ingrid let the moment pass, though something flickered in her eyes. "Shame. You're cute when you're over-caffeinated."

Y/n pretended not to hear it, not knowing how to deal with it,

"So, uh, what about you?" Y/n asked, trying to change the subject, her voice just a little too sharp. "How's the prep for the next match going?"

Ingrid noticed the shift, but instead of pushing, she smiled softly, settling back in her chair. "Busy, but good. Same old routine."

Ingrid paused, eyes glinting mischievously.

"I'm just hoping no one decides to challenge me for my position as 'most intimidating defender.'"

Y/n's chuckle was softer this time. "Guess you're pretty safe there, huh?"

Ingrid leaned a bit closer, her smile widening. "For now. But you never know... I might need a backup."

Y/n swallowed, a little embarrassed by how quickly her heartbeat picked up at the thought of that proximity. "I don't think I'm cut out for being a defender. I can barely keep my coffee from spilling, remember?"

Ingrid's laughter softened the tension, but Y/n could feel it lingering between them...something new.

3. The Goodbye

The afternoon light filtered softly through the windows, casting a warm glow across Ingrid's living room.

Y/n stood by the open suitcase, folding Ingrid's clothes as neatly as she could, trying not to look too closely at the other woman.

Ingrid was busy rifling through a drawer, clearly searching for her shins, her expression focused and a little frantic as she threw things from one corner of her room to the other.

Y/n's eyes lingered on the clothes she was folding, Ingrid's shirts, her sweatpants, all items that had become so familiar to her over the past few months.

She let out a quiet sigh.

It wasn't like she hadn't been around when Ingrid went off to camp before, but this time... it was different.

Ingrid was leaving for Norway's national camp, and Y/n was unsure of how to navigate it.

She had never had to deal with this before—this feeling of missing someone who wasn't... quite hers.

"So..." Y/n started, trying to make small talk, anything to distract herself from the tightening feeling in her chest.

"How does camp work, exactly? I know you've told me a bit, but like, what's the routine? Is it much different from here?"

Ingrid's voice drifted over to Y/n as she continued to dig through her drawers.

"It's pretty much the same as Barcelona. Training, recovery, more training, meetings... But with Norway, everyone's Norwegian," she said with a little chuckle, glancing over her shoulder to catch Y/n's eye. "Oh, and we don't actually leave the training facility. It's more intense, too."

Y/n nodded slowly, but she couldn't hide the frown that tugged at her lips. It wasn't jealousy...no! She wasn't jealous. Ingrid was just... going away.

To play football. To represent her country. This was good. This was important.

Still, a tight feeling formed in her chest as she folded one of Ingrid's sweaters.

Ingrid caught the frown, her gaze softening as she walked over, finding her shins and tossing them on the bed.

"Hey," she said gently. "It's just a week. You'll be fine, yeah?"

"Yeah, yeah, of course," Y/n muttered, clearly lying.

She didn't want to admit that the thought of Ingrid being gone for an entire week made her stomach churn, even though she couldn't exactly explain why.

They were just friends, right? Neighbors.

She didn't need Ingrid around—she was perfectly capable of being alone for a while.

But the idea of not seeing her... of not having those quiet nights, those easy conversations that stretched into hours, made her feel like something important was going to be missing.

Ingrid stopped and looked at Y/n for a long moment, noticing the way she stood there with her arms folded tightly, her eyes cast downward.

"Y/n," she said softly, her voice full of warmth. "You're gonna be fine. It's just a week. You'll barely even notice I'm gone."

Y/n hesitated, but finally, she spoke.

"They'll miss you," Y/n blurted out, not thinking. "The girls, I mean. They always ask about you. I always tell them about the things we talk about. "

Y/n paused, but contineudm feeling a little embarrassed, her face growing warm. "They won't have any Ingrid content for a week."

Ingrid blinked, and then her lips curved into a smile.

"You tell them I'll miss them too," she said, her voice soft but teasing. "I'm sure they're all heartbroken without me."

Y/n chuckled, but it felt a little hollow in her chest. She nodded, feeling her heart race for no reason at all.

The silence settled between them, but Y/n didn't mind. She was used to this comfortable quiet with Ingrid.

Still, it didn't stop the ache that continued to build inside her as Ingrid moved around the room, packing the final bits into her suitcase.

As Ingrid was finishing up, she grabbed her jacket from the back of the chair, ready to go.

"I'll call you when I get there, okay?" Ingrid said, glancing over her shoulder. "And I'll bring you more chocolate, obviously." She smiled, and Y/n tried to ignore how much that smile made her chest tighten.

"Yeah, okay," Y/n replied, smiling weakly. "Take care of yourself. Don't get too caught up in...football stuff, alright?"

Ingrid rolled her eyes playfully. "Yeah, yeah, don't worry. I won't get hit by too many balls."

Y/n's lips quirked up. "You better not."

Ingrid winked at her as she slung her bag over her shoulder.

"Thanks for helping me pack. And for the good luck charm, obviously." She gave her a teasing grin. "Maybe next time we can actually work out a football tactic for you."

Y/n laughed, shaking her head. "I'll stick to the cheering–and–teaching section for now."

"Fair enough," Ingrid said with a shrug, then hesitated for a moment before walking over and pulling Y/n into a quick hug. "I'll miss you," she whispered into Y/n's ear.

Y/n froze, her heart skipping a beat.

She wanted to say something, but the words stuck in her throat.

Instead, she just squeezed Ingrid back, holding onto her for a little longer than maybe she should have.

"I'll miss you too," Y/n said, her voice quiet but sincere.

And with that, Ingrid was gone, her presence lingering in the air long after she left, and Y/n stood in the empty apartment, feeling a little less like herself than before.

..

When Ingrid came back from her trip, Y/n found herself unexpectedly waiting for her. The week had felt much longer than it was.

She wasn't sure what she was expecting, but when Ingrid finally showed up at her door, a huge smile on her face and a bag in her hand, Y/n felt something settle in her chest.

"I brought you something," Ingrid said, holding out the bag with a small grin. "Norwegian chocolate, as promised."

Y/n smiled, her heart lifting at the gesture. "Kremtopper," she said, recognising the name on the packaging from the searches she did on the internet. "Thank you!"

"Welcome" Ingrid said softly, a knowing look in her eyes as she handed her the chocolate. "And I brought something for the girls, too. More chocolate...you'll have to share."

Y/n smiled more brightly, taking the bag from Ingrid's hand. "I'll share with them, don't worry. But... only because you brought me something sweet." She looked up at Ingrid, eyes soft. "How was the camp?"

"It was good," Ingrid replied, but her voice held a small, almost wistful quality. "But I'm glad to be home. I missed our talks."

Y/n's heart swelled at that. "Yeah," she said quietly, "me too."

And there it was again, the familiar, comfortable silence. But this time, it felt different. It felt like something more.

4. The Stupid Misunderstanding

Y/n woke up to the soft hum of her phone alarm, groggily rubbing her eyes before pushing the blankets away.

Her first thought was of Ingrid—of course.

They had a little routine, one that was comfortable and familiar.

Whoever woke up first in the morning went to the other's apartment to make breakfast.

Y/n stretched and threw on her robe, slipping her feet into her slippers. She walked down the short hallway and knocked on Ingrid's door, as she always did.

No answer.

She waited, but the usual sound of Ingrid humming in the kitchen didn't come.

Y/n shrugged it off, knocking once more.

But then, the door opened, and Y/n's eyes widened in surprise.

A girl, a random girl Y/n didn't recognise, walked briskly out of Ingrid's apartment, right by her side.

The girl was wearing a Barça jacket, she stepped into the elevator, and Y/n felt something in her chest that she didn't quite understand.

She frowned. Had she missed something? The girls from the team were always in and out of Ingrid's place, but the girl was most definitely not from the team.

Y/n stood frozen, unsure of what to do next.

Ingrid appeared at the door then, beaming as she waved the girl off. "Bye, Michelle. It was great!"

Y/n's gaze snapped up to Ingrid.

She was so casual about it, like there was nothing unusual in the situation.

Ingrid didn't even seem to notice the way Y/n's jaw had clenched, the surprise and maybe a little hurt bubbling in her chest.

Ingrid's smile faltered for just a moment when she noticed Y/n standing there, but it quickly returned.

"Oh! Y/n, you're early," Ingrid said, her tone light, not catching the tension that was growing between them.

Y/n couldn't hide the anger building in her.

She had to say something, but she didn't know what.

"Michelle?" Y/n asked, her voice tight. "You didn't tell me you had company this morning."

Ingrid opened the door wider, clearly oblivious to Y/n's frustration. "Yeah, she slept here because–"

Y/n swallowed, trying to keep her tone steady. "Oh, right. She slept here."

Ingrid nodded, completely unbothered.

"Yup... slept here. We had some coffee, I made breakfast." She gestured toward the kitchen, oblivious to the growing distance between them. "Come on in, I made extra for you and me. Still some left if you want."

Y/n's hands tightened into fists, frustration bubbling over.

Without thinking, she turned on her heel and walked back down the hall, slamming her door shut with more force than she intended.

Ingrid hurried after her, her voice softening with concern. "Y/n?"

But Y/n didn't stop.

She heard Ingrid knocking softly on her door, but she didn't answer. Instead, she threw herself onto her bed, burying her face in the pillow and letting the tears come—tears of anger, confusion, and the hurt she didn't know how to voice.

Minutes passed before Y/n finally pulled herself together.

She couldn't let her emotions control her, especially not when she had to teach twenty girls math that morning.

She quickly got dressed, throwing on a sweater and jeans, and left for La Masia, trying to push everything out of her mind.

She was halfway through her class when her phone buzzed. It was Ingrid. But Y/n ignored it.

By the time the school day ended, she was exhausted and emotionally drained. She was just walking down the hallway to her apartment when she saw it—a bouquet of flowers sitting on her doorstep.

Y/n knelt down to read the small note attached:

"Michelle's Patri's sibling. She asked me to give her a place to stay while her apartment is being renovated. PS: I'm pretty sure she's straight."

Y/n blinked, her chest tightening in embarrassment as the realisation hit her: she had completely overreacted.

She had let her insecurities get the best of her, jumping to conclusions about Ingrid's friendship with Michelle.

Before she could process it any further, Ingrid's voice came from behind her.

"Y/n?" Ingrid's soft voice held a note of uncertainty. "I made carrot cake... if you want some."

Y/n's face flushed with guilt. She turned around slowly, meeting Ingrid's eyes. "I'm sorry. I--I was being dumb. I jumped to conclusions."

Ingrid gave her a soft smile, shaking her head. "It's okay. Honestly, I would've reacted the same way if it were you."

She reached forward, holding out the plate with the freshly baked cake. "Friends?"

Y/n smiled sheepishly and nodded. "Yeah. Friends."

They stood in the hallway for a moment, neither of them saying anything.

Y/n's heart was still racing, but it was a different feeling now—a mix of relief and the quiet warmth of understanding between them.

Ingrid stepped into the apartment, and Y/n followed her inside.

The door clicked shut behind them as they sat down at the small kitchen table, cutting the carrot cake and laughing at the simplicity of the moment.

No more misunderstandings. Just the two of them, the cake, and the quiet realisation that everything was okay.

5. The Confession

Barcelona had just clinched the league title, and the team threw a private celebration at one of the club's event spaces—no press, no fans, just players, staff, and a few invited friends.

Y/n arrived in a simple silk dress, heart pounding from more than just the excitement of victory of the team.

She spotted Ingrid near the dance floor, laughing as she clinked glasses with Aitana and Alexia.

When Ingrid's eyes met hers, she waved Y/n over with that dazzling, lopsided grin that sent butterflies crashing through Y/n's chest.

Across the room, Alexia whooped, and Aitana held up a plate of patatas bravas.

A few of the players winked at Y/n's direction as they passed.

But Y/n's eyes never left Ingrid's, who beckoned her over with a grin that made Y/n feel all warm inside.

The DJ slid into the next song—a R&B track with a slow, pulsing beat. Ingrid extended her hand wordlessly.

Y/n slipped her fingers into Ingrid's, and they drifted to the small dance floor.

Beneath the gentle glow of overhead bulbs, tables of empty plates and glasses fell... It felt like it was just the two of them, two bodies swaying in perfect sync.

Ingrid's hand settled at the small of Y/n's back; Y/n's other hand came to rest lightly on Ingrid's hip.

The thrum of the music echoed in Y/n's chest, but the only rhythm she heard was her own heartbeat, speeding up as Ingrid leaned in.

Warmth brushed Y/n's ear as Ingrid spoke, her voice low, the tiniest tremor betraying nerves. "I have been waiting all night for this moment."

Y/n's breath caught. The air between them felt charged, as if the entire loft had hushed.

She met Ingrid's gaze, searching the hazel depths for confirmation.

Then Ingrid asked—softly, tentatively—"Is it okay if I kiss you?"

Time stretched. Y/n's mouth felt suddenly dry.

The thumping of her pulse was louder than the bass. She nodded, her voice caught in her throat.

"Yes," she managed, and her words flared in her ears. "Please."

Ingrid's lips found hers in a soft, searching kiss.

First gentle—an exploration—then confident, as if they'd been practising for months.

Glasses clinked in the background, but Y/n heard nothing but the rush of Ingrid's breath and the warmth of her hands cradling Y/n's face.

When they broke apart, Ingrid's forehead rested against Y/n's. Her voice was husky.

"I've wanted to do that ever since you moved in nexxt door."

Y/n's cheeks burned.

She tucked a hand behind Ingrid's neck, tracing the line of Ingrid's jaw with her thumb.

"I'm glad you did. I've been head over heels for you, for what, seven months?"

Ingrid's brow rose. "Seven months?"

Y/n laughed, the sound soft and breathy.

"Since the day you introduced yourself with those freshly baked cookies. But don't let it go to your head.".

Ingrid grinned, brushing a loose curl behind Y/n's ear.,

"Too late." She dipped her head and captured Y/n's lips once more, more boldly this time, sealing their first real confession beneath the glow of victory lights and the away‑game hum of celebration.

..

a/n: if you read this far-- first of all, ily. second of all, feel free to let me know what you thought!

i love hearing your reactions, fav lines, or just general thoughts 🫶 it really makes my day <3ds