For crouchie28:

You sighed, clutching the hand of the child next to you. This was it, your first World Cup. You walked out onto the field, hearing the cheers of the crowd around you. You stood next to your teammates, hands behind your back, standing proudly. "And now the Brazilian national anthem," the announcer stated in Portuguese.

You sung proudly with the rest of your teammates. Smiling as you heard the stadium repeat the song back to you. The song finished and the opposition's song played as well. You stood silently until the kids left. You walked to your position and swung your arms back and forth. At age 22, you were Brazil's number one scorer. The other team started with the ball.

You eyed the turf around you, preferring the feel of a grass surface under your feet. The whistle blew and the other team passed the ball backwards. You tracked a runner to your left as their defense started to pass back and forth. You challenged a defender but she passed the ball back to the goalkeeper before you could do any damage.

The game started out slowly until there was an opening in the defense. You shouted to your teammate to pass you the ball. The pass came in and you settled it before charging forward. They had left their defense weak on the left side, allowing you access. You entered the goal box and kicked the ball towards the goal. It bounced off the crossbar and into the net.

You cheered with your teammates in the corner of the field. You had just scored a goal in your first world cup appearance. Your team set up and waited for the opposition to play the ball. Half time was called with Brazil having a 1-0 lead. Your coach congratulated you and spoke to the team about how to improve. You retook the field quickly afterwards, ready to continue the game. You kicked the ball to your teammate to start the second half.

Brazil was dominating. Brazil was awarded a corner kick. You were told to take it. You caught the ball from the ball girl and set it on the arc of the corner. You backed up and raised your hand. Your teammates moved around, getting open for you. Picking out your teammate, you kicked the ball into the goal box. Your teammate headed the ball past the keeper and the score was 2-0. You jumped onto her back and raised your fist in celebration.

The other team looked defeated as they took the kick off. Brazil, however, was anything but discouraged. You and your teammates quickly won the ball back and continued to spend time in their half. You sprinted down the side of the field, a defender on you heels. The ball was at your feet and you looked up. Seeing an open teammate in the corner, you planted your left foot and swung your hips.

The ball fell to her feet and the cheers of the Brazilian spectators confirmed that she had embedded the ball in the net. The match ended 3-0, Brazil walking away with a clear win. You shook hands with the opponents and celebrated with your teammates. You walked into the locker room, changing out of your jersey and cleats. A TV in the locker room showed reruns of the match.

"Who is your woman of the match?"

"I say (Y/N) from Brazil. She picked up an impressive goal and two assists in the first match alone. I think she's definitely a game changer for the Brazil women's team. Her vision is superb as is her passing," the anchor said. You smiled. You liked the praise of others but preferred critics so as to help you improve as a player. Swinging your bag over your shoulder, you exited the locker room.

"(Y/N), aren't you coming to dinner?" one of your teammates asked, running up beside you.

"Dinner?" you questioned, confused.

"Yeah, a few of us were going to go out to dinner with a few of the men's national team guys. You interested?"

"Sure, I have nothing better to do anyways," you smiled, following your teammate over to a group of guys. You recognized most of them as members of the men's team. Your teammates introduced you to them, even though both of you already recognized each other.

"And this is Neymar," your teammate introduced.

"Nice to meet you," you replied.

"Pleasure's all mine. You were great out there," he smiled.

"Thanks," you stated, tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear. You soon left with your teammates and the men's team. They settled on a secluded restaurant. It was mostly empty and there was only a few staff members walking around. You guys took up most of the restaurant and ordered your food. As you waited for the food, you fell into conversation with Neymar, who sat next to you.

"So, what club do you play for?" he asked.

"I'm transferring to Barcelona's women's team after the World Cup. Before that I played in France," you replied.

"Cool, so you can speak French?"

"Oui, est -il pas evident?" you replied in French. "Yes, isn't it obvious?" you translated.

"Can you speak any other languages?"

"Portuguese, French, English, and Spanish," you stated.

"Impressive," he replied.

"Thanks, I used to learn the language by playing keepy uppy with the ball as I recited vocab and sentences," you smiled to yourself.

"How are you at freestyle?" he asked.

"I'd say I'm decent," you said.

"We should have a competition. They're already comparing out stats and forms as we speak," Neymar stated. "They're calling us the twin strikers of Brazil."

"Well then we should really have a competition to prove whose better," you teased.

"I'm up for it, say the date and time and I'll show up," he smirked.

"Little egotistical, are we?" you smirked at Neymar.

"I prefer the term confident," he replied. The two of you continued to tease each other throughout the night, having completely tuned out the other members of your party. After you had eaten and paid for dinner, you and Neymar were to part ways. "Good luck."

"Thanks, I'll try and bring the trophy back to Brazil," you smiled.

"You better. Remember, I'll be watching," he winked before running after his teammates who headed towards their own hotel.

"So you and Neymar, huh?" your teammates winked.

"Please, just friendly competition," you brushed it off.

"That was more than that. You two were flirting the night away," your teammate smiled.

"I prefer the term talked the night away," you replied, although a smile and blush creeped into your face at the thought of a certain #11.