hello and welcome to my masterlist! currently i'm only writing for alexia and patri, but i wouldn't be opposed to other players. asks/requests are always open.
summary: alexia had all and then most of you. some, and now none of you. ...or does she?
~ 2.2k
warning: alexia leaving barça (i guess that's a warning?), just angst
a/n: this is something different that popped into my head that i wanted to try out. it's more angsty than i usually write. there will probably be more parts coming, i think. i just wanted to see how you all think about it.
when alexia finally came home, everything was quiet. she stood in the hallway for a while, just…breathing. it was dark, she didn’t bother to turn on the light. her bag hung heavy from her shoulder, filled with gifts and letters from fans, teammates, staff. her people.
alexia was truly alone for the first time. it was such a stark difference to the last few days. she’d surrounded herself with family, she needed them with her. her sister, her mami, her uncle, her friends. they were all there for her, supporting her, distracting her, trying to cheer her up.
all because she’d just made the hardest decision she’d ever had to make in her life. not one she thought she’d have to ever make, or one she thought she would choose. yet, it happened. no matter how much it had hurt her heart. it had slowly ripped apart, a piece of her forever left here in barcelona.
she hadn’t thought she could ever leave barça. it was her club, her dream, her home. she’d lived a thousand lifetimes, experienced the highest of highs, gone through the lowest of lows. the perfect story. but…well. all good things must come to an end one day, didn’t they?
that was just how things were. alexia had tried to learn to live with that. it had taken a lot of time. many, many nights of crying her eyes out, second-guessing everything. now, there were no tears left to cry. she’d left them in camp nou, in the johan cruyff, with the people that were most dear to her.
alexia was tired of it. the crying, the constant sadness following her. she didn’t want to be sad anymore. it was exhausting. expected, but exhausting. irene had told her she should see it as a privilege. proof of the love she carried for this club and these people.
alexia had quietly listened to her friend, but she wasn’t sure she could see it as such yet. she struggled to accept, to believe, the words of others. there were many, kind and well-intentioned, but they didn’t really reach her. not yet. it was all just different words with the same meaning.
for now, they all sounded wrong to her ears. or…well, their voices did. everyone said something, but not the two people alexia wanted to hear from the most. they stayed silent. one, forever, who had left this life too early. the other…
the other, was you. once, one of the most important people in alexia’s life. now, nothing more than a ghost. though a ghost she saw everywhere, in everything. it ruined her life; it left a small but persistent flame of hope in her heart.
alexia had thought of calling you a hundred times. during her weaker moments, usually at night. she still knew your number by heart. although, she didn’t know if it was still yours.
sometimes, alexia thought she should just do it. in the hopes that it wouldn’t be you picking up the phone, just so that this last link between you would be lost.
she should, but couldn’t do it. alexia didn’t dare. maybe that was cowardly, or stupid. or both. she didn’t care anymore. it was the last thing she had of you. sure, that hoodie alexia had stuffed into the back of her closet, never to be seen again but there, that shirt next to it, had been yours once, but it had long lost your scent.
maybe if she had thrown them away, the flicker of hope would have never been there in the first place. everything would be so much easier if there wasn’t that lingering hope. it burned in her chest. sometimes brighter. sometimes not so much.
these last few days, it had been brighter than ever. and alexia was weak. she’d typed the numbers into her phone, one by one. had stared at them, thumb hovering over the call button. had deleted them again. she was just so desperate to hear your voice again. to be comforted by your words. she was pathetic.
with a sigh, alexia let the bag drop to the floor. god, she needed- alexia couldn’t believe she was even thinking it…she needed something to drink. it was a no-go during the season, but…really, she’d earned it. her last game (ever) had been today anyway. if not to celebrate, then to commiserate.
alexia left her shoes carelessly thrown in the middle of the hallway, the jacket on the hanger. she walked into her kitchen, greeted by the same silence. nothing had changed. the fruit bowl still sat in the middle of the island, a sorry amount of wrinkled apples inside. a mug she’d forgotten to put away that morning rested beside it. the digital clock on the oven glowed faintly in the darkness, one of the few light sources inside the house.
alexia didn’t bother turning any others on. she knew this house like the back of her hand. with heavy feet, alexia crossed the room and opened the cupboard under the sink. tucked away in the back, there was a bottle of red wine someone had gifted her on her birthday.
she couldn’t remember who, but it wasn’t someone that knew her that well or that she knew that well. someone related to barça, probably. alexia stared at the label with squinted eyes.
vega-sicilia unico.
it had sounded expensive when she got it. it sounded expensive now. it looked…well, it had looked like any other red wine, if alexia was honest. but she remembered thinking she would save it for a special occasion. that’s what it had seemed like it was for.
heartbreak was a special occasion, wasn’t it? nothing like an expensive bottle of wine to drown one’s sorrows.
it took her four attempts to get the cork out of the bottle, the pop echoing through the silence of the house. alexia stood there for a moment, bottle in one hand, cork in the other. the smell drifted out immediately. it smelled rich, fruity, …expensive. that was about as much as alexia knew about wine.
alexia looked around. there was no wine glass in sight. obviously. not because she didn’t own any. she had them. somewhere. alexia couldn’t be bothered to look for one. the empty mug next to the fruit bowl would have to do.
dark red liquid splashed against the ceramic as she poured far more than she intended. it sloshed dangerously close to the rim, but she didn’t care enough to wipe away the few drops that had landed on the island top.
alexia raised the mug to her lips. “cheers.”, she said into the empty room, taking her first sip. cheers to the day i said goodbye to everything i’ve ever known. cheers to everyone i’ve lost along the way.
it could’ve been the best wine alexia had ever tried. it could’ve been terrible. she didn’t really taste it. this was only a means to an end. only there to take the edge off. to make her tired, so she could sleep in peace, without a million thoughts that kept her awake.
alexia took another sip. and another. and another. until the mug was almost empty. nothing changed. not yet, anyway. “pathetic.”, she muttered. the words disappeared into the silence. in the past, there would have been a reply, coming from the sweetest lips she’d ever tasted.“don’t talk like that. please stop being so mean to yourself, ale.” now, no one was there to tell her any different. that was even worse. alexia filled up the mug again.
she wandered into the living room, mug gripped tightly in her hand, careful not to spill anything. the way to the balcony was short, and illuminated only by the glow of the street lights outside.
the warm summer air had cooled considerably, raising goosebumps on her skin. alexia shivered and wrapped her free arm around herself. she looked out over barcelona.
the city was awake as ever. cars crawled through the streets below. someone laughed in the distance. a scooter sped past, disappearing into the night.
a sad smile spread on her lips, tears gathered in her eyes again. this city was familiar in every way. she knew these streets. had walked them since she was a child. she knew these people. she knew where to get the best coffee, the best food. she knew the best hideaway spots. she knew the best spots to kiss you as the sun set. she knew everything.
soon, this wouldn’t be hers anymore. not really. home would become somewhere else. her chest tightened at the thought. not because she didn’t think she could learn to love another place. but this one had loved her first.
it had watched her grow up into the woman she was now. it had witnessed her first love and every other that came after until she’d found her one. it had witnessed your first meeting. you being friends, then falling in love years later. it had seen your (almost) perfect love story.
and it had watched the two of you fuck up so badly that you had lost each other in the end. it had watched her cry for you. it had watched her try again and again to forget about you.
a shaky breath left her lips. a single tear rolled down her cheek before she wiped it away. she didn’t know why she was sad anymore. was it because she was leaving barcelona? was it because she still missed you so much it hurt?
she looked down at the wine. it had done absolutely nothing to help. if anything, it had only silenced the part of her brain that usually knew better. because she’d never thought about you as much as she did at this moment. not since that day in march.
alexia put the near empty mug on the table in front of her and fell into one of the balcony chairs. a warm breeze stirred her hair, tickling her nose in the process.
alexia wondered if you were awake.
the thought came suddenly. involuntary. but she couldn’t stop thinking about you. with that thought came many others. she wondered where you were. if you still had that apartment. if you were still here. it would break her heart even further if you were. if you had forgotten. if you missed her as much as she missed you.
alexia fished her phone out of her pocket on autopilot. not even an hour and she seemed to have arrived back at this point again. its weight settled familiarly in her palm. the screen lit up immediately, almost blinding. alexia stared until it went dark again. it wouldn’t hurt, would it? it was only for her, it would never reach you.
she unlocked it, didn’t look at any of the thousands of notifications, wishing her the best for what came after. her thumb had typed your number before she even realized. alexia hated that she still knew it. she’d spent years trying to forget, but some things refused to leave you.
she stared at the familiar digits, willing herself not to do it. it was the same every time. her hands shook, that’s how much effort it took. just so she wouldn’t press that damn button. no. she couldn’t. it wouldn’t be fair. not to you. not to herself. you had moved on, surely. you deserved to have moved on. alexia shouldn’t, wouldn’t, reopen old wounds.
no, she wouldn’t do it. alexia would delete the number. again. forget about it. leave. go to bed. cry, probably. but she wouldn’t call.
alexia sighed. good. she’d done it. again. that sorry excuse of a routine. this was as brave as she got. it didn’t make her feel better, but it was the only way she survived the pain. because she told herself she’d done something about it. her thumb moved, ready to delete the number once more.
“pedri!” a shout erupted from somewhere down below. it was followed by a round of drunken laughter that traveled through the silence. alexia startled, her eyes snapped up to look at the streets. just a second. it was only a moment. nothing should have happened in that time. she hadn’t moved. when she looked down at her phone again, she paled.
calling…
alexia froze, every little bit of tipsiness gone in an instant. “no…” her voice barely came out as more than a breath. “no, no, no,...”
she stared at the screen in horror, watched as it tried to connect the call. she should hang up, there was still time. she wanted to. her body just wouldn’t cooperate with her brain. her thumb didn’t move. she couldn’t do anything. why couldn’t she do anything?
her pulse thundered in her ears. there was a ring. a second one. please don’t pick up. please pick up. her brain was at war with her heart. she wasn’t sure which one was louder. a third ring. alexia held her breath.
you were asleep. you didn’t know her number, you wouldn’t pick up the phone. no, she knew you. if the number wasn’t saved in your contacts, you wouldn’t pick up. you waited until it ended and then searched the number on the internet. that’s who you were.
a quiet click sounded through the speaker. “...ale?”
summary: there's a heatwave. there's rain. and patri waking you up in the middle of the night.
~ 2.1k words
a/n: i don't really like it. it's also not what i wanted to write initially. but i wanted to give you something, at least. if you have any ideas/requests for me, let me know.
“princesa.”
it was nothing more than a breath against your cheek, the puff of air momentarily uncomfortably warm on your skin. you groaned as you turned away, burying your face deeper into the pillow. you didn’t want to wake up yet.
but the pillow suddenly felt much too hot. just like everything else did, you realized. you groaned even louder as sleep slowly slipped through your fingers. there was no way you could fall asleep again. not when every inch of you felt so sticky, so overheated.
the thin sheets stuck to the lower part of your legs. you’d tried to sleep without them, but, for some reason, even during the worst heatwave you’d ever experienced, your feet were still always freezing at night. you couldn’t fall asleep with them cold.
“amooor.”
patri. you felt her move beside you. closer. too close. the heat practically radiated from her, it almost felt suffocating. it was suffocating, a sheen of sweat built on your skin. you groaned, it was the only thing you could do apparently, and scooched away from her.
“too hot.”, you rasped, your voice still thick with sleep.
your girlfriend laughed, though you didn’t understand what was so funny. you only spoke facts. your apartment had turned into a sauna over the last few days, not even the fans were able to do much anymore.
you felt the mattress dip as patri, once again, moved closer. you blindly raised your hand to stop her. as much as you loved her and her cuddles, now was not the time. you’d surely burn alive in her arms.
“princesa…”, your girlfriend chuckled. you could feel her roll her eyes at your dramatics - very warranted dramatics, in your opinion. her hand settled on top of yours, where you’d planted it against her stomach to keep her at a safe distance. “it’s raining.”
“what?”, you asked, confusion cutting through the haze of sleep.
even so, your ears perked up. at first, there was only the hum of the useless fan sitting in the corner that did absolutely nothing. but now that patri had mentioned it, you did hear the steady pitter-patter of raindrops outside. landing on the balcony, on the roof, on the street, the cars.
you cracked your eyes open just as patri repeated, “it’s raining.”
the room was mostly dark, as was expected in the middle of the night. only the orange glow of the streetlights cast a little light inside. your eyes flicked to the alarm clock on your night stand - a few minutes after midnight. you’d only been sleeping for about an hour.
“why did you wake me up for rain?”, you asked, dumb-founded. your gaze settled on your girlfriend lying next to you. she looked much more awake than you currently were. there was a smile on her face as she watched your confusion unfold, merely tilting her head to the side.
“yesterday,” she said softly, “you told me you couldn’t wait for it to rain.”
you frowned, thinking back. you could vaguely remember having said something like that. you’d been lying on the ground, basically melting into a puddle. it still didn’t explain why she woke you up, though.
“you said you want to lie in the rain.”, patri reminded you.
your girlfriend shrugged, as though waking someone in the middle of the night because of a rainstorm was the most normal thing in the world.
“still don’t understand it, by the way. it isn’t even that warm.”, she added, almost as an afterthought. or maybe a nicely wrapped insult about your inability to handle the heat.
you simply rolled your eyes. you’d given up on arguing with her about appropriate summer temperatures a long time ago. it was useless, anyway; this woman grew up in spain and nothing ever seemed to be too hot for her.
“sooo…” a wide grin spread across patri’s face. “being the amazing girlfriend i am, i woke you up so we can do that.”
you just stared, unsure what to feel exactly. you had no recollection of saying that. ever. you must have, otherwise your girlfriend wouldn’t have done what she did, but then it was solely a throw-away comment at most.
patri clearly hadn’t thought so. she was a great listener, you knew that. every word someone said was filed away somewhere in her brain. just like this time. you loved that about her. mostly. not particularly this moment.
another beat of silence stretched between you. “so,” you repeated slowly, still trying to catch up with the fact you were woken up because of weather. “you woke me up…so i can lie outside in the rain.”
patri lightly shook her head no, correcting you quickly. “so we can lie outside in the rain.”
that was…great, you supposed. not what you expected, but at least she included herself in this too.
you laughed, dragging your hand over your face. “dios mio.”, you murmured to yourself.
this was ridiculous. though at the same time, the longer you thought about it, it sounded incredibly inviting. you could hear the rain, still. the occasional gust of wind. surely much better than this suffocating heat in this room.
your mind was made up then. you didn’t care that it was the middle of the night, that you would most likely regret this tomorrow when you would wake up sick, that any sane person would have stayed in bed.
you looked over at patri, her face illuminated by the faint glow of the city. she was smiling already. that specific smile when she knew she’d already won. you let out a long, theatrical sigh, but the same smile tugging at your lips gave you away.
“this is insane.”, you stated as you pushed the sheets down and rolled out of bed. the floor beneath your bare feet was, for a short moment, blissfully cool.
when you looked over at patri, she beamed. “well, come on then”, you sighed and waited for her to get out of bed. much more elegantly than you did. perks of being an athlete, or perks of being awake for longer. probably the latter.
“you and your ideas.”, you muttered under your breath.
“it was your idea, amor.”, she reminded you while following you out, through the living room and toward the balcony. both of you were only in shirts and underwear, but neither of you thought to change.
you stopped in front of the closed balcony door and shot her an unimpressed look. “but you woke me up.”, you countered, slapping her hands away that tried to wind around your waist.
when you turned your head, you could see her much more clearly now that you were closer to the lights. though, the affronted look on her face would have been hard to miss anyhow. her eyebrows were really very expressive, accentuating the deep frown on her face.
you only smiled innocently up at her. “it’s still really warm, don’t you think?”
patri huffed behind you, still close enough you could feel her breath on your shoulder. you were just about to open the door when you felt patri pinch your ass, of all places.
“oye!” you whirled around, fixing patri with a glare. your girlfriend didn’t even have the decency to look guilty. if anything, she looked rather proud of herself. your glare only intensified, which, in turn, made her grin brighten.
as though nothing had happened, patri slipped past you. “you know…if you wait any longer, the rain will stop.”
before you could retaliate, your girlfriend had already gripped the handle and opened the door with a jerk. immediately, cool air drifted in. at first, the sudden cold breeze was a shock to your system, so unexpected you squeezed your eyes shut. but that quickly turned into utter relief.
you couldn’t help the quiet sigh that escaped from your lips. never had you felt anything more pleasant. it wasn’t really cold. after days of unbearable heat, it felt…breathable. finally.
you took a deep breath in, that distinct smell of rain - earthy, fresh - filling your lungs.
“estas bien?”
there was a teasing lilt in your girlfriend’s tone. when you looked at her, that same teasing glint was dancing in her eyes. you didn’t care. you were too relieved to care about anything.
“estoy bien.”, you answered, and moved outside. in passing, you pressed a quick kiss to patri’s cheek before you took her hand in yours and tugged her along.
the rain greeted you immediately. tiny droplets landed on your arms, your legs, soaking into your clothes. you smiled instinctively, tilting your head back until the rain hit your face. it felt…nice. really nice. a content sigh escaped from your lips.
gone was the sticky feeling on your skin, washed away in seconds. you turned around and looked at your girlfriend, happy to share this moment with her.
though by the look on her face, she, evidently, didn’t feel the same as you did. her eyes were narrowed, you could see the annoyed little crease between her eyebrows. her lips were pressed together as she glared at the raindrops rolling down her skin.
you laughed. properly laughed. because she looked miserable in a way that was, somehow, endearing. you felt so much love for her in that moment, you couldn’t explain it. you had the sudden urge to just…be close to her.
glad to give in, you closed the distance between you and wrapped your arms around her neck. hers instinctively fell to your waist, bunching up your soaked shirt.
you leaned forward, until your noses almost touched. “you don’t like it.”, you stated in a whisper, still smiling. it wasn’t even a question, you knew.
“i didn’t say that.” patri’s voice was quiet, distracted.
you felt the words against your lips. so close. too far. you answered with a hum, unconvinced. her breath hitched unmistakably, her eyes flicked down to your lips. yours did too.
your grip tightened slightly, holding onto her like you had no intention of letting go any time soon. rain slid down the side of your face, got caught in your lashes. her hair was damp against your fingers when you brushed it back without thinking.
this was it. you weren’t sure what it was supposed to be exactly, but you knew this moment was that. patri, the love of your life; home; in the rain; in the middle of the night. it was perfect.
your girlfriend leaned her forehead against yours. the breaths she let out was uneven against your lips, just enough you noticed. her hands tightened around your waist, then let go. they slipped under your shirt, fingers tracing shapes along your bare skin which left goosebumps in their wake.
“are we really going to kiss in the rain like they do in those stupid movies?”, patri asked, sounding amused and out of breath.
you huffed a quiet laugh, tilting your head slightly. “seems like it.”, you replied simply.
your one hand moved from her hair to her cheek, cupping it gently. you didn’t hesitate anymore, and let your lips finally touch hers. you kissed her properly, with all the time in the world. her breath caught against your mouth for half a second before she kissed you back, deeper, hungrily.
it was messy, warm, cold because of the rain. just right. when you finally pulled back, you didn’t go far. just enough to see her. her lips were swollen, her eyes sparkling in a way they hadn’t been for a while. probably because you were finally back in her arms, after days of you complaining about it being too hot to touch her.
“stupid movies, huh?”, you joked and watched as her smile turned into a laugh.
“maybe not so stupid.”, patri admitted and tried to pull you even closer even though there was no space left between you.
you were thankful for the warmth she gave you, the rain now only feeling too cold on your skin. you felt like you came back from somewhere else entirely. all of a sudden, this weather didn’t feel so great anymore. now, the shirt just stuck uncomfortably to your skin, the raindrops tickled as they rolled down your arms and legs.
“come on, let’s go inside.” you pushed away from her, but not before pecking her lips once more.
you wanted to quickly hop back inside, but patri held you by your hips, pouting. “but we didn’t do it.”
your girlfriend looked like she couldn’t wait to finally be out of the rain. still, she insisted for you. it was very sweet, but completely unnecessary.
“no, but i’m cold and you don’t like it.”, you said, patting her cheek. “i think it’s really not what everyone always makes it out to be anyway.”
as soon as you’d said that, patri had already picked you up, evoking a surprised shriek from you, and hurried inside into the warmth. you could just about hear the quiet “thank god.” that she muttered into your neck over the rain.
i started on a story for patri, but now i'm thinking about switching it to alexia? or maybe make some sort of love triangle, i don't know. kika also randomly popped into my mind one time.
would anyone be interested in a patri fic? or someone else?
You had a lot on your plate: a little sister to raise, two jobs to juggle, and a massive secret. For years, you had been secretly working at a strip club to fund your sister’s needs: from school trips to football kits. Between keeping a secret and making ends meet, there was no room in your life for anything else, especially not romance. Meeting Alexia Putellas made that a little difficult.
fic index | chapter one | chapter two
please do not repost, plagiarize or feed to AI!
a/n: this is a lengthy chapter and i guess a bit slowburn with a bit of world-building (?) so just buckle up cause it’s a looong ride but i hope u think its worth it
⋆˙⟡♡ "Nana, please, just hold still." You heard the exhaustion and exasperation in your own voice before you could soften it. You took a deep breath and exhaled, trying to keep yourself patient as your sister moved restlessly in her seat.
Sometimes, you couldn’t find it in yourself to be in a good mood in the morning no matter how hard you tried, especially when you’ve had maybe three hours of sleep and your body was still sore from your performance the night before. You usually still tried to stay composed and to not let the exhaustion get to you but ever since that night, it felt like your patience had worn even thinner. You figured that it was perhaps due to your frustration with yourself or maybe it was just how that night left you feeling uneasy. Whatever it was, it had been affecting your mood.
Your fingers worked through your sister's hair, fixing it into a braid. You decided on nothing elaborate today, just a simple hairstyle that would survive the school day without falling apart.
“Just stay put please, Aina,” you pleaded, tone getting annoyed. “Rocío is leaving soon and I don’t want you to go to school with messy hair.”
Aina sighed dramatically. "But why can't you take me?" she said with a tone of annoyance. "You never take me to school anymore."
A pang of guilt pierced your heart, sighing through it. Aina wasn’t wrong. It had been a while since you took your little sister to school. You probably didn’t think about how much it meant to her; you just knew it was difficult for you to keep up with it. You needed those one or two extra hours of rest before your shift at the coffee shop and Rocío was more than willing to take Aina for you. Even if you wanted to, you knew realistically that you’d tire yourself out if you promised to bring Aina to school more often, and that would just put you in an even more sour mood.
You steered her attention elsewhere. "Your birthday is coming up," you said, tone lighter, and felt genuinely pleased with yourself for the redirect. "You’re turning eight, almost a big girl now. Have you thought about what you want to do for your birthday? Want to invite some friends over and I can cook your favorite meals?"
It worked immediately. Aina forgot whatever speech she'd been building about you not taking her to school more often; she turned around to face you, which you hadn't quite anticipated mid-braid, but you managed. She looked up at you with those eyes of hers — wide and glassy like a puppy dog. "Well," she started, a smile already on her face. "I don't really want a party..."
"No party?" You asked, urging her to turn around so you can continue fixing her hair. “How about a mini party with you, me and Rocío ? Like we did last year for Christmas?”
"No." She shook her head, seemingly set on something else. "What I actually want… is for you to sign me up to be a mascot for a Barcelona game."
You furrowed your eyebrows. "A mascot?"
"Yes." She nodded, very certain. "You know, the kids who walk out with the players at the start. Matteo from school did it last season and he said his mum just entered him in a raffle. He got to go on the pitch and meet the players and show up on TV and everything. He told me he even got a high-five from Lamine Yamal, which is cool and all, but I wanna meet Aitana."
You opened your mouth, already doing the mental calculation of how hard it would be to actually get a slot through a raffle. Surely, there were also a bunch of kids in Barcelona who wanted that opportunity. "Aina, a raffle means they draw names at random, I can't guarantee—"
"I know what a raffle is, YN," she said, with a small eye roll. You chuckled at the expression but felt a bit guilty cause you were certain she picked up the eyerolling from you. You mentally noted to be more careful about rolling your eyes around her especially when she was at the exact age where she absorbed and copied everything.
"I just want you to try," she added, and the eye roll was gone, replaced again by those huge, pleading eyes. "Please."
Something in your chest went soft. You reached out and pinched her cheek gently. She scrunched her nose but didn't pull away. "Okay, cosita," you said. "I'll try."
She threw her arms around you, hugging you tightly, pressing her face against you as she did. You held her, resting your chin on top of her head, already worried about this whole raffle thing before you could even look into it. After a while, you could hear Rocío emerging out of her room, already holding Aina’s backpack.
She smiled at you two. “Ready, Nana?”
Aina pulled away but not without giving you a cheek kiss. "Yesss, okay, bye YN." She said merrily before running off to take Rocío ’s hand.
You gave Rocío a small, grateful wave and she gave you a nod that suggested she understood completely. As the door closed, you felt your shoulders slump and an exhale make its way out of your lungs.
How am I going to get her that slot?
⋆˙⟡♡ As soon as the morning rush at the coffee shop calmed, you grabbed your phone and began researching on this whole mascot raffle thing. You were now on the page of the agency that handled the raffle. You scrolled back to the top of the page and started again, certain you must have missed something, because surely the process could not actually be this convoluted.
But it was, in fact, this convoluted. The more you read, the less it made sense. You groaned in frustration.
"You know," Rocío said from behind you, stacking the last of the clean glasses into their spot. "You wouldn't have to be standing there torturing yourself over a raffle if you would just talk to a certain someone."
"Don't." You didn't even look up from your phone, rolling your eyes. "Don't start with me right now, Rocío ."
"I'm just saying—"
"I know what you're just saying." You scrolled further down the page with a growing sense of despair. "Why is this so complicated? I have to sign-up on their website to get to an email with the online form which I have to fill out and submit just to get the details on when the physical sign-ups would be, where I still have to queue, and all of that is just for the chance that my sister gets to stand next to a footballer for five minutes."
Rocío leaned against the counter with her arms crossed, shaking her head "If only there was a much simpler solution available to you."
You locked your phone and dropped it into your apron pocket. "Absolutely not. I’d rather fill up a hundred forms and stand in a line for two hours than do what you’re thinking."
She sighed through her nose. You made a mistake telling Rocío about that night at the club, thinking naively that sharing it would make you feel better. But since that night, Rocío had been bringing it up at every opportunity she could, insisting that you should try to message Alexia or whatever.
"YN, honestly," she said. "I don't understand why you’re acting like it was such a catastrophic thing. She asked for your name. She didn't ask for your bank details or your home address or your email password or anything that should have sent you running out of that room."
You shook your head. "It's not about what she asked," you said, picking up a cloth and running it along a section of counter that was already perfectly clean, just needing something to do with your hands. "It's about the principle of it. I work very hard to keep things separate — who I am at work and who I am everywhere else. That line exists for a reason. It's why none of the Somni girls come to the apartment anymore, even if I love those girls dearly. I just… I don't mix those parts of my life and it's why the whole thing works at all. It’s how I protect Aina from ever finding out," You pressed the cloth a little harder into the counter. "The moment you start blurring that line, shit gets messy and right now, messy is the last thing I need."
Rocío was quiet for a moment, watching you clean a counter that did not need cleaning, exhaling. "What exactly do you think Alexia Putellas is going to do with your first name?" she said, not unkindly but just inquisitively. "Hunt you down? Steal your identity? Blackmail you in front of Aina?"
You stayed quiet, not looking at your best friend because you knew she was making a point. And you hated it when she was right.
Rocío tilted her head. "She probably just thought you were attractive and wanted to know who you actually were. Maybe she just wanted to ask you out."
That was the point at which Rocío's argument fell apart.
"She wouldn’t want to actually date me. And quite frankly, I wouldn’t want to go on a date with her either," you said, with a dry laugh. "I told you… it was supposed to be harmless. A small crush on a client, something fun, a way to blow off some steam when I could without it meaning anything.”
You exhaled, shaking your head at yourself. “And then I let my guard down for five minutes and nearly handed her myself on a plate." You said. “This is why I can’t allow myself to let loose and have nice things. I can’t control myself once I do.”
Rocío and you fell silent for a moment. You sighed. "Besides," you added quieter, "she hasn't come back anyway. So it's done."
Rocío made a sound that managed to communicate considerable skepticism without using any actual words. Then she straightened up and picked up a water pitcher to fill up the customer's empty water glasses.
"Well, good luck with the mascot registration, then," she said with a fake pleasant tone. "Because I will tell you, that child could not stop talking about it the whole way to school this morning, on and on about the players and the pitch and meeting Aitana. So, you better be sure you’re getting that slot.”
You sighed.
⋆˙⟡♡ You owed Rocío a very nice dinner for this.
She had agreed to cover for you during the morning shift at the coffee shop without too much negotiation, which either meant she was feeling generous or she felt guilty enough about all the Alexia comments and was doing it to make it up to you somehow. Either way, you were grateful.
You had set your alarm for an ungodly hour, barely slept a wink, dragged yourself out of bed, and spent twenty minutes in the kitchen making sure Aina's breakfast was ready before she woke up and that you at least had a quick shower.
Then you left the apartment, stepping into the cold of the early morning, the sky still grey and the streets quiet. The offices where the physical registration was being conducted were not nearby.
Of course they weren't.
Which was why you were on the metro by six, standing because the seats were already taken by other people who looked equally as tired as you were, holding the overhead bar and trying to mentally prepare yourself for whatever queue situation you were about to walk into.
Your body ached more than usual. Last night had been brutal in a way you had not anticipated. It was a bachelor party for a group of rich, finance dudes so Pilar was extra highstrung, making sure everyone did their numbers well.
And by some unlucky fate, one of your co-workers had gone down during warm-up, tripping off of the stage and landing on her wrist. You, being the only girl who knew her choreography having done it before, was now tasked with performing it, on top of all of your other numbers.
So, here you were, calves practically throbbing and a headache beginning to develop. The fact that the guy beneath you in one of the seats thought it’d be smart to chow down on what smelled like a purely onion sandwich, the pungent smell wafting to you, making your head throb even more.
I could have just asked Alexia for a favour, said a small, unhelpful voice somewhere in the back of your mind. That way I wouldn’t have to worry about this.
You shut it down immediately. No. Absolutely not.
You were not going to be the person who leveraged a moment of weakness — a lapse in professionalism, a line you should never have crossed — into a personal favour.
Most especially, you were not going to let Aina's name be connected, even loosely and privately, to that part of your life. Your sister existed in a completely separate world from Somni and everything that came with it, and that was not a boundary you had any intention of softening, not even for something she wanted this badly, not even when the alternative was standing in a queue at six in the morning with what you were increasingly certain was the beginning of a headache forming somewhere behind your eyes.
You were going to do this the right way.
The metro doors opened and you joined the stream of people moving toward the exit, adjusting your bag on your shoulder, preparing yourself for whatever was ahead. You just really, deeply hoped the queue wasn't as long as you feared it was going to be.
⋆˙⟡♡ Aina’s shrieks pierced your ear. Your sister excitedly jumped up and down the couch after you had told her that you’ve gotten the email that confirmed that she was chosen for the mascot position for Barcelona’s next game.
If her shouts from getting the signed shirt and armband didn’t wake up the entire apartment building, the shrieks from now certainly would have startled them.
Nana, who was wearing the signed shirt like a dress and a Barcelona-themed party hat, was jumping up and down, clearly filled with glee. “Best birthday ever! Best birthday ever!” She chanted.
Rocío excitedly joined in on the chanting, grabbing your sister off of her bed so they can now prance around hand-in-hand in circles as they chanted together. You sighed, feeling a deep satisfaction settle inside you watching your sister so happy, giving yourself a pat in the back.
“YN, join us,” Rocío said before continuing in their circular chant session.
You shook your head at the offer and laughed. “C’mon, Nana, you still have to blow your birthday candles.”
She ran up to you, hugging you tightly. “No need, YN. You made all my wishes come true already.”
You bent down to hug your sister tightly, feeling warmth spread through you. Maybe all the hard work and effort was worth it because nothing could replace this feeling.
⋆˙⟡♡ The morning of the game, you were up before your alarm.
You laid in the dark for a few minutes, looking over at Aina who was in her princess pajamas, still sprawled beside you. She had begged you last night to sleep in the Alexia shirt but you refused. You were only realizing now that your sister had still stubbornly managed to sleep with Alexia’s armband hanging on her small arms loosely.
You sighed as you got out of bed, heading for the shower. You already took the night shift off at Somni the other night for Aina’s birthday which meant that you could not have taken a night off last night. This meant that not only were you tired but also that you had to wake up earlier than usual to scrub off the remnants of your heavy performance make-up and the body glitter you all had to wear.
You had been thinking about today all week, excited for Aina but anxious about seeing Alexia again.
The Somni costume and make-up was enough to differentiate your real self from Rubi. In all your years performing, no one has recognized you outside of Somni. There would be times where regulars of the club would find themselves in the coffee shop you worked in and they all looked at you with the expression of unfamiliarity.
But then again, none of them got that close for that long. None of them has seen you without a wig. It was just Alexia.
And that was why you were roughly scrubbing the body glitter off of you so hard you were practically peeling off the first layer of your skin as you did. Taking an extra precaution to scrub off anything that could connect you to Rubi.
That also meant dressing as far as you could from Rubi. You didn’t put any make-up, just a light balm and concealer under your eyes, and you borrowed Rocío’s clothes — a loose Barcelona shirt and cargo pants. You looked at yourself in the mirror for a long moment.
You looked okay, which was good. The last thing you wanted was to stand out; you just wanted to blend in. And thankfully, you did. You looked just like someone's random older sister at a football match, which was precisely what you were, which was precisely the point.
You went and made breakfast, bracing yourself for the day ahead.
⋆˙⟡♡ By the time you arrived at the stadium, Aina was practically bouncing with excitement, nonstop yapping about how excited she was to finally meet Aitana. She had been good and behaved over breakfast, contained enough to sit down and eat, but the moment you'd left the apartment, her energy had accelerated steadily and has now officially gone off the rails.
You took her hand, making sure she wouldn’t break free and run off. She held your hand but she was looking everywhere at once: at the stadium exterior, at the other children gathering near the designated entrance, at the staff in their bibs with their clipboards, at everything with the wide-open attention of someone who wanted to memorize all of it simultaneously.
"YN, look, that's where they come out," she said, pulling your arm in one direction. “That’s where we’re going to go.”
You nodded as you got your wristbands from the staff, trying to pay attention to both the staff and your sister, who was still going on-and-on about everything she saw.
"And look at the size of this stadium! It’s massive, YN!” She beamed. “Everyone is going to be so jealous at school when I tell them all about today.”
She giggled, which was a good sound, and you squeezed her hand and tried to let some of her excitement be contagious.
Still, there was that anxiety of seeing her again.
She probably won't even look at you, you told yourself to calm down. And if she does, she wouldn’t know who you were.
The noise level in the room shifted as soon as the players arrived. The kids collectively cheered as they arrived, tugging on their parent’s arms, gushing as they arrived.
“YN! YN! It’s Alexia,” Aina said, excitedly pointing.
You followed your sister’s gesture and that’s when you saw her.
You knew exactly who you were looking at and yet it took a while for it to register that that was the same Alexia you knew. Because the person walking out in the Barça training kit with her hair scraped back in a tight ponytail and her eyes already somewhere past the room looked so disarmingly different.
At Somni, she was so loose and easy-going, eyes dark and fixated on you. Seeing her now felt somewhat unfamiliar. You carefully looked at her, watched her eyes level and distant, as if already focused on the game ahead. She took a deep breath before finally greeting the kids nearby, crouching down, smiling at them. Even her smile looked so different, bright and wide, so professional.
Your attention was interrupted once the staff took Aina, shuffling her into a line. She looked back at you from where she was made to stand, giving you a thumbs up. You chuckled, waving one last time before you moved to the side along with the other guardians.
You watched Aina talk to the player beside her, excitedly bouncing and likely already talking the player’s ear off. You sighed and turned to head out, not sparing Alexia another glance.
It was good that Alexia did not recognize you, that she didn’t even look your way. It was safe that way.
And yet… part of you couldn’t help but feel a bit disappointed.
⋆˙⟡♡ Aitana had been paired with kids before. It was a regular enough fixture of the pre-match routine that she had a general approach to it: smile, crouch down to their level, ask their name, keep it warm and simple because they were usually too starstruck to do much more than stare at her for the first thirty seconds anyway.
This one was different. The little girl had begun talking before Aitana even had an opportunity to crouch down.
"Hi, I'm Aina which kinda sounds like Aitana but everyone calls me Nana and I'm so excited to meet you, I've been excited since my sister told me I got in and that was already a few days ago so I've been excited for a while—"
Aitana blinked and let out an easy laugh, a bit overwhelmed at the kid’s obvious excitement. "Hi, Nana. I'm Aitana." She interrupted, not knowing when else she could have an opportunity to speak in between the kid’s rambling.
"I know! " Nana exclaimed, raising her hands up. "You're my favourite player ever!"
"Yeah?" Aitana said with a smile.
“Yes, you’re my favorite because I really want to be a midfielder like you!” Aina said with a small jump. “And also, because you’re the smallest one in your team like how I’m the smallest in my team!”
Kika, who was just behind Aitana heard the statement, and chuckled. “How about me? Am I your favorite too?” She asked Nana.
Aina hummed, genuinely thinking for a while. “I think you’re my fifth favorite.”
Kika laughed at the honesty, feigning offense. “Just fifth?”
Aina, oblivious to Kika’s acting, listed them down. “Yes, it goes: Aitana, Alexia, Patri, Salma, and then, Kika!” She said excitedly before remembering. “Oh you know, my sister got me a signed shirt from Alexia for my birthday too but —”
Aina paused, unsure of whether or not she should continue. Aitana furrowed her eyebrows. “But what?”
“I’m starting to think it isn’t real,” she answered in a quiet voice, looking back to check if you were there. “Cause when I told my classmate Matteo about it yesterday. He said those shirts cost a lot of money and well… my sister has no money.”
Aitana found the little kid’s honesty amusing, chuckling a bit at the candor. “You know what, I think your friend Matteo is just jealous.”
Aina pouted. “Yeah?”
Aitana nodded. “Let me tell you what, how about I give you another shirt later and we can take a photo so that your friend Matteo wouldn’t ever doubt you.” She smiled. “As long as you can wait a bit after the game.”
Nana nodded immediately, doing a little hop in her place. "Yes! Please! I would really love that!” She stuck out her hand towards Aitana. “It’s a deal”
"Deal." Aitana kept her voice serious, acting as if it was a serious negotiation, shaking the little girl’s hands. “Okay, just behave now and I promise, I’ll give you it later. Good?”
Aina saluted and stopped jumping, standing up straight. Aitana laughed and took her hand. “Okay, let’s go, Nana. Let’s win this game.”
⋆˙⟡♡ Aitana grabbed a marker from Irene as she continued to explain why she was asking everyone around for a marker. “She might genuinely be one of the funniest kids I've met in a long time so I just felt like I had to give her something."
“Yeah, she’s hilarious," Kika added, in the middle of getting changed. “She told Aitana she was her favorite because she was the smallest in the team.”
Esmee and Alexia laughed.
Aitana frowned and added. "Which is crazy because I'm not even the smallest. Vicky is shorter than me,” she said. “Plus, she said it was because she wants to be a midfielder too but of course, you only heard the short part.”
Kika gave her a teasing shrug and Aitana rolled her eyes but laughed. She sat down on the bench near the lockers, propping the shirt on her knee, signing on the back of it. “Okay, now, I gotta give it to her and take a photo so that her classmates wouldn’t think it’s fake.”
“Fake?” Patri asked.
“Yeah, apparently her sister bought her a signed Alexia shirt for her birthday." She looked towards Alexia’s direction to make sure that she was listening. "And now she thinks it’s fake because her classmate said so.”
The people nearby gave their awws, feeling bad for the girl. “Her classmates are just jealous,” Patri commented before pausing to think. “Though, the shirt might actually be fake. I saw someone selling a shirt on ebay that I apparently signed and the signature looked nothing like mine.”
Alexia laughed, shaking her head, turning back to Aitana. “How old is she?” She asked in the middle of undoing her boots.
"Seven, I think?" Aitana answered, throwing on a fresh shirt. “You should meet her too, Alexia. She said you’re her second favorite player.”
Kika scoffed. “Lucky you, I’m just her fifth favorite.”
Patri laughed. “How about me?”
“Third.” Aitana and Kika answered at the same time.
Patri smiled before turning to Kika to tease her. Alexia chuckled. “Yeah, I should give her something too, just so she can flex on her jealous classmates,” she joked, standing up to borrow the marker from Alexia.
Aitana stood up and readied the shirt, hanging it on her forearm. “I’ll head on outside cause I don’t want to keep the kid waiting,” she said. “But I’m telling you: you’re going to love that kid. She’s like a puppy dog.”
Alexia chuckled. “I bet.”
⋆˙⟡♡ Aina was practically bursting with excitement in a way you have never seen her before. You could tell she was trying to contain her energy, stay patient, but it was obvious how hyped she was.
The Barcelona social media manager had approached you after catching part of Aina and Aitana's interaction from a while ago, finding it adorable and asked if she could film a short clip of Aina receiving the shirt for a Children's Day post. You agreed, and she positioned herself between you and Aina to get the angle she needed, which was just perfect cause now you could hide behind her just in case Alexia passes by.
Soon enough, Aitana came out, a shirt in hand. Aina exclaimed the player’s name, rushing over to hug her tightly. Aitana chuckled, crouching down to hug your sister. You watched from behind the social media manager’s shoulder, smiling warmly at the interaction, watching how your sister’s eyes practically sparkled as she talked to the footballer. You couldn’t hear much of what was going on but Aitana was genuinely listening and chatting with your sister, genuinely enjoying the conversation and even laughing at Aina’s statements.
Rocío always joked that Aina got all the humor and the charm but you never found it offensive because she was right. That girl was just so loveable even when she was brimming with energy.
You finally stepped forward when the camera lowered, reaching them just as Aitana straightened up.
"Thank you, Aitana." you said, and meant it thoroughly, shaking her hand as you did. "She won’t ever forget this. I bet she won’t let us forget either. She idolizes you so much.”
"I believe it," Aitana said, with a chuckle. "She reminded me of myself at that age, honestly, just eager and full of energy.”
She looked down at your sister, giving her a small cheek pinch. “Nana here told me that she plays midfield too,” she gave your sister another smile before looking back at you. “You should look into La Masia for her training. Might be worth the shot.”
You nodded. "I'll look into it."
Aitana opened her mouth to say something else, then glanced back toward the door. "Oh — wait.” She said, turning to the social media manager, stopping her from packing up the ring light. “You should keep filming.”
The staff looked at Aitana who simply explained. “I told my teammates about Aina, and Alexia said that she’s coming out to give Aina something too."
As soon as you heard Alexia’s name the same nervous feeling returned to your gut. You shook your head. "That's really not necessary—" you started.
"Alexia is giving me something too?" Aina exclaimed loudly with amused disbelief. She spun around to look at you with the biggest smile on her face. “YN, did you hear that? I’m getting something from Alexia too!”
You closed your mouth, forced a smile, and gave a stiff nod. As soon as the social media manager turned the lights back on, you told Aina to wait for Alexia and very deliberately moved behind the social media girl, who had her phone raised again, and stayed there, watching Aitana pull your sister into one last hug before disappearing back through the locker room door.
You took a deep breath. Calm down, you told yourself. She has no idea who you are or what you actually look like. It’s no big deal.
But all that self-soothing proved useless as soon as Alexia came through the door, causing your heart to beat at an unhealthily fast rate
She had changed out of her kit, wearing their sleeveless training kit, showing off her arms. Alexia’s hair was still damp at the edges from the shower. Even without make-up, she looked breathtakingly beautiful. She gave the lingering staff a brief, polite acknowledgement and then her attention settled on Aina, who was looking up at her, eyes wide and teeth bared into a huge toothy grin.
You moved, quietly, directly behind the social media manager, moving even further away just to be safe. Though, at that distance, it meant you couldn't hear a word of what they were saying, which was its own particular frustration, but it was the safest option.
Aina greeted Alexia, rushing into a hug. Alexia crouched down as she took your sister into her arms, hugging her warmly. You watched Alexia smile at Aina as the two began to talk, handing her a shirt, which garnered her another hug from the little girl.
"Aitana tells me you already have my signature," Alexia said as she slowly pulled away from the hug, tilting her head a bit.
Aina nodded. “Yes, I have three.” She said before holding out the shirt Alexia just gave her. “And now four!”
Alexia looked a bit taken aback, chuckling, thinking to herself that maybe this little girl’s sister had gone a bit crazy with a Sharpie one night. "Four? That’s a lot! You’ll have your own Alexia collection soon,” she joked.
Aina smiled but something about it carried a hesitation. She paused, looking behind her to see if you were within earshot before moving closer to Alexia. “Well, I’m not sure if it’s real,” she said to Alexia in a small, guilty voice. “My classmate Matteo said that maybe my sister got scammed on the internet since he doesn’t think the signatures are real but please don't say anything because it'll really hurt her feelings. I bet she saved a bunch just to buy me those."
Alexia gave her a small, exaggerated pout, tilting her head. "Really? What makes him think that?" she asked, feeling genuinely bad about the situation. "Maybe your sister really did get it for you though. Has she ever met me before?"
Aina shook her head vigorously. "No, my sister doesn't even watch football anymore cause she’s always working," she said bluntly with a sigh. "But she said she bought the shirt and armband online and that the paper was from when she met you at a restaurant. I don’t know if the last part is true either."
Alexia nodded slowly, manufacturing a thoughtful expression. "You know what, now that I think about it, I think I did sign something for a girl at a restaurant once," she said, which was a complete lie, but the alternative was letting this child go home thinking her sister had wasted money trying to make her happy, and she wasn't going to do that. “And I think the girl did look a lot like an older version of you!”
At the end of the day, at least, she’d have one real signature, Alexia thought to herself. I’m not crushing this kid’s happiness.
Your sister immediately perked up, eyes widening. “Really? Then that might be her! Everyone does say we look alike!” she exclaimed. “I really had my doubts, Alexia. Cause it was just on this crumpled receipt and Matteo said she might have just traced your signature or something."
Alexia laughed but paused, expression turning serious for a moment, as a memory snagged in the back of her head. She furrowed her eyebrows together, blinking as she remembered the interaction she had backstage, from the time the other Somni girls asked her to sign a receipt for Rubi’s sister.
Alexia tilted her head. “Did it say anything on the paper?”
Aina nodded “It said: Força Barça, Nana!”
"Nana," Alexia repeated. When Aitana had mentioned the name Aina earlier, it didn’t really bring up any recollection with Alexia. It was a common enough name. But Nana was something she remembered. She looked past Aina's shoulder, scanning, but couldn't find you. She brought her attention back to the girl in front of her, keeping her expression easy so Aina wouldn't notice anything had shifted. "Where's your sister now?"
Aina turned around. She looked around before finally locating you, hiding behind the social media manager. You watched helplessly as her little arm went up, finger pointing directly at you with an innocent smile on her face, totally unaware of the fact that you were practically panicking at that point.
What’s worse was the social media manager shifted just enough to expose you.
Alexia looked up. Her eyes found yours and her face went very still. You looked away, fixing your gaze somewhere past her, jaw tight. She held the look for one more second before returning her attention to Aina, and whatever she had just recognized, she kept it entirely to herself, her expression resettling into a warm smile.
She continued to engage Aina for another few minutes, talking to her about football, the match. The conversation went on and at some point, Alexia gave the social media manager a thumbs up, as if signalling them to wrap up. The girl in front of you turned off the small ringlight and lowered the phone before walking off, leaving you completely seen.
Alexia looked at you once more from across the small distance between you. Without the wig, without the makeup, without any of it, you looked so different that she understood immediately why she hadn't placed it sooner. If it hadn't been for Aina and the receipt and the name, she likely wouldn't have connected it at all.
"Aina," she said, glancing down at your sister, "why don't you introduce me to your sister?"
Aina nodded before turning around, rushing towards you. She came back to you with her arms occupied with the merch from both Aitana and Alexia, absolutely beaming with pride. You smiled at her, still avoiding Alexia’s gaze, crouching over to take the stuff from your sister’s arms and carefully placing it into your totebag.
Alexia trailed just behind Aina. Close enough now that she could see the resemblance clearly: same hair, face shape, same lips. Alexia smiled at her own observation, eyes flickering across your face, biting her lip to stop herself from smiling too widely.
“Alexia, this is my sister,” Aina announced with excitement.
You straightened up and looked somewhere in Alexia's general direction but not making eye contact. “Thank you. Aina is a big fan.”
"Of course." Alexia glanced down at Aina. "You should come to watch more games, Nana. I’d love to see you again.”
Aina grabbed your arm immediately. "Hear that, YN? Alexia wants to see me again!”
You smiled at your sister but internally you were cursing at the situation, fairly certain Alexia had just heard your name loud and clear. "Yeah, of course, we will," you said, already reaching for Aina's hand. "Okay, we should get going. We don't want to keep Alexia. I'm sure she's very busy.”
Aina was a bit startled at your urgency but just nodded and agreed. You turned already, holding Aina’s hand in yours, ready to leave. “Say goodbye, Nana.”
Aina, thankfully, didn't put up a fight this time. "Okay," she said agreeably but not before letting go of your hand and running back to Alexia to give her another hug. "It was really nice meeting you, Alexia!"
Alexia hugged her back, laughing softly. "You too, Nana."
You gave Alexia a brief nod, eyes down, and turned for the exit with your sister’s hand back in yours. Aina was still craning her neck back, looking behind at Alexia, reluctant to let the moment end.
Alexia waved at her. "Bye, Nana!"
You kept walking, focusing on the exit.
“And bye, YN.” Alexia followed up.
You didn't turn around, just kept your eyes on the exit and your pace steady, like you hadn't even heard it.
Shit.
⋆˙⟡♡ "Bye, YN," Rocío repeated back to you, mouth wide parted in disbelief. She huffed, nodding as if impressed with it. "Oh, she's good. That's slick. Really cheeky."
You groaned and dropped your face back into the throw pillow. As soon as you got home, you’ve been wanting to tell Rocío everything that happened but Aina took up most of the conversation, yapping on and on. Thankfully, she got the idea to call her friends and tell them about it too which finally gave you an opportunity to recount what happened to your best friend, still in disbelief.
"How am I this unlucky," you said, muffled, into the cushion.
"Unlucky," Rocío repeated. "How is that unlucky?”
You groaned, lifting your head up and reaching over to the pizza box on the coffee table, pulling out a slice that had gone a bit cold. You noticed that Aina’s Aina's plate was still sitting there mostly untouched. You sighed, figuring you’d let her talk to her friends first and just remind her to finish it later.
“I mean unlucky in a sense that nothing goes how I want it,” you explained. You were interrupted mid-thought by the sound of Aina’s loud laughter from her room. You sighed. “At least one of us is pleased with herself.”
Rocío smiled in the direction of the door, chuckling. "Imagine how much happier she'd be if you started dating Alexia."
You turned to look at her flatly. "You gotta let that go. You're constructing an entire narrative out of nothing."
"Out of nothing," she said, giving you a look. "The woman came back with gifts for your sister, fully made out with you, then recognized you out of your Somni costumes, and made it a point to let you know that she was going to remember your name. Clearly that’s not nothing.”
You stared blankly at Rocío who rolled her eyes. “You can’t seriously tell me that you think she isn’t a little bit interested at least.”
You shook your head. “No, I know she is but she’s interested in Rubi, not me. That's an important distinction that you keep choosing to ignore." You scoffed. “And well, if Rubi is the kind of girl she likes, then the real me is certainly not going to catch her attention.”
Rocío waved her hand dismissively. "I think you're being ridiculous.”
"I'm being realistic. " You took a bite of the cold pizza, chewed, swallowed. "Besides, I've seen the kind of girls she goes for. Her ex was really into fitness, like seriously into it, marathons and pilates and all that. While I’m here on the couch with you, eating my third slice of cold pizza.”
Rocío chuckled but shook her head. “Please, I know you have this whole self-deprecation thing going but you literally make money off of how fit you look.”
“That’s different,” you responded. "Anyway, whatever, the point is that I’ve seen her ex and she could not be more different from me."
Rocío was quiet for a moment, and you thought maybe you'd finally managed to close the conversation, until she said slowly, "How do you know all that about her ex?”
You stopped chewing, not answering. Rocío shook her head and pointed an accusatory finger at you.
“You sly woman,” Rocío said with a chuckle. “You totally stalked Alexia and her ex.”
"I wouldn't use the word stalk—"
"You absolute hypocrite," Rocío interrupted, tone delighted. "You sit here telling me that you don’t like that she recognized you, that you don't like her, or that it’s not happening, meanwhile you've stalked her enough to know about her ex going on marathons.”
You shrugged. "I was just curious," you said with a small voice.
"You actually want her," Rocío said simply. "You’ve got an actual, massive crush on Alexia Putellas.”
You put the pizza down and exhaled slowly before rambling. "Fine, okay, I think she's hot and she kissed me so fucking good that I started seeing stars and yeah, I did find it cute that she took the time to greet and talk to Aina a while ago even if she didn’t know her and yes, I kinda think I really like her. Are you happy?" You looked at Rocío but before she could say anything, you went on. "But what exactly am I supposed to do with that? She’s this famous football star and I’m a stripper. If she does like me, it’s lust and nothing more.”
"You don't actually know that," Rocío said, more gently this time, knowing that there were times you had opened up to her about your worries of never finding anyone who could like you for more than just your body.
"I know enough," you said, shrugging. "And even if I didn't, getting closer to her is a risk I can't afford. You know that."
You leaned back into the couch. "Besides, it doesn't matter. She hasn’t shown her face in the club anyway. If there was any interest before, it’s gone now.”
⋆˙⟡♡ You didn’t tell anyone else about how Aina met Alexia, especially not your co-workers at Somni. They had more than enough questions about the last time Alexia visited and you didn’t want to add more to that.
Thankfully, the interest in Alexia died off and most of them left you alone.
“Chiqui,” Adriana said, walking over to you from where you were standing in the dressing, in the middle of wiping off her make-up. “You did well tonight.”
You smiled, taking off your wig and placing it on the wig holders. “Thanks. The new choreography was so fucking hard to learn but I guess I figured it out eventually.”
Adriana hummed, tilting her hair slightly. “Yeah, but to be honest, I still like your old solo better. I think that one was way sexier,” she nodded, and waved her hand like that wasn’t the point. “Anyway, I just came over here to ask you something.”
You paused from changing out of your costume, eager to just get home already. “Yeah?”
Adriana bit her lip, already smiling. “So, Alexia…”
“No, no,” you shook your head at Adriana, in the middle of putting on a tanktop. “I told you it was nothing. She’s just a client.”
Adriana nodded. “Good, cause Lorenzo’s cousin is moving to Barcelona soon and I thought maybe we should go on a double date. All four of us.”
You squinted. “Didn’t you say it was over for you and Lorenzo?”
The girl shook her head dismissively. “Whatever, it’s complicated,” she groaned. “Anyway, are you up for it or not? She’s really cute and very much your type.”
“I don’t know, chica. I mean, I barely have any time and you know how Aina gets when I don’t spend my weekends with her,” you said, trailing off a bit.
“C’mon, YN. It’s been a while since you and I hung out outside of work,” she pleaded. “And Lorenzo’s cousin is really hot too. She’s like… an Italian Alexia Putellas.”
You scoffed. “An Italian Alexia Putellas?”
Adriana rolled her eyes. “You know what I mean – athletic and hot with great abs,” she tried to explain before simply stating again, as if it was a selling point. “An Italian Alexia Putellas.”
You rolled your eyes, putting your costume back onto a rack. “I don’t know why you’d think —”
“You ladies talking about me?”
The voice came from just behind the costume racks. You were startled, instinctively covering yourself even though you were already fully dressed, and turned to find Alexia Putellas standing there looking thoroughly amused.
She was wearing loose jeans and a cropped, black cardigan that exposed a sliver of her stomach. Her brown hair framing her face. She had an amused look on her face, clearly having heard part of your conversation. You and Adriana exchanged a glance.
Right beside her was your club manager. "Alexia's teammate is getting married," Pilar said, cutting straight to it the way she always did. "She stopped by to book a date and thought you'd have some input on the lineup." She looked at you pointedly. "Since you've been here long enough to know what works."
You looked again at Adriana who just gave you a shrug but had a small smile on her face “I, uh… me?” You asked, pointing at yourself. “I don’t… usually…”
"You've been here over half a decade. You'll manage." Pilar was already typing something on her phone. “I’ll leave you two to talk about it.”
She thanked Alexia before walking off, already typing away on her phone like she always did. You stared after her for a moment, then turned back to Alexia, who just gave you a meek smile. You gestured for her to wait as you chased after Pilar whose eyes were still on her phone.
“Pilar,” you said, waiting for her to stop in her tracks, just out of earshot from Alexia. She looked at you, raising an eyebrow. “Pilar, you know I don’t do… client relations.”
Pilar scoffed. “Client relations? What are we – a Fortune 500 company?” She said sarcastically “It’s no big deal. Her teammate is having a bachelorette. All they want is just to see new performances, different from last time. Just string together some new and some old performances and call it a day.”
You paused, nodding. “Can’t I just text you my suggestions? I mean, you usually take care of events like this cause I don’t really have much free time and I gotta go home and take care of—”
“Aina, I know, I know,” she said, nodding understandably. “Look, Alexia requested that you coordinate with her. You specifically. I’m not gonna waste time explaining why that is. You’re smart enough to know why.”
You blinked. “What?”
Pilar tucked her phone under her arm and gave you a look that was almost fond, in her particular way. "YN. The woman is infatuated with you." She said it plainly, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "I'm not asking you to do anything complicated. Talk to her, find out what she's looking for, pass it to me and I'll handle the rest. She's paying well. If you help coordinate it, I'll split the managing fee with you."
You went quiet, doing the math without meaning to. Aina's tournament was coming up and you had most of it covered, but new boots would certainly be a great gift to surprise her with.
"Can I go now?" Pilar continued without waiting for your answer. "I've got a situation with the laundry service. Sol's boots came back still smelling like absolute shit and there’s no way I’m paying that much for boots to be coming back still stinking."
You nodded, looking back at Alexia now who was now talking to Adriana, laughing easily at something Adriana said.
“And YN,” Pilar said, drawing your attention back to her. She put a hand on your shoulder and squeezed. "If I were you, I'd just enjoy it."
She walked away, already calling someone as she did. You stood there for another moment, then headed back to Adriana and Alexia.
Alexia turned her attention back to you and gave a smile. “So, are we sorted? Are you up to help me with this bachelorette?”
“YN’s been here as long as I have," Adriana offered cheerfully. "She'll know exactly what to put together."
You nodded slowly. Alexia's gaze stayed on you, unhurried, and she said, "Yeah, she looks like a girl with great taste." Her eyes scanned you before settling back on your face and gave you a crooked smile.
Adriana widened her eyes. She mouthed oh my god at you from just over Alexia's shoulder. “Anyway,” she said out loud. “I’ll leave you to talk. Lorenzo’s picking me up.”
Adriana gave you one last wink before heading back to her station to grab her bag.
You turned to Alexia and you nodded. "Okay, we should probably go over what you're looking for quickly cause I do have to get home soon,” you said. “It is a bit late.”
"Honestly, I mostly took care of it with Pilar already: pencil-booked and paid the deposit." She slid her hands into her pockets, easy about it. "Why don't I drive you home? We can talk about all the preliminary stuff on the way to your place."
You pressed your lips together. The sensible part of you already had a whole list of reasons to say no. First, she was a client. And that you’ve blurred enough lines as it was. Lastly, there was no real benefit to getting entangled with a famous footballer.
But the other part of you was much louder. It was too busy noticing how good she looked and thinking about how much you'd secretly wanted to see her again to even listen to the logical side of you.
You figured you'd spent enough time being sensible.
You gave her a small smile. "Yeah, okay."
⋆˙⟡♡ As soon as you got into Alexia's car, you pulled out your makeup wipes and started scrubbing your face clean, cursing yourself for not doing this sooner.
Alexia glanced over but said nothing. "Let me just input your address," she said, tapping at her GPS.
You stuffed the used wipe into your bag. "I’m kind of regretting giving you my actual address now,” you joked, looking over at her as she input it. “You're not going to turn out to be some crazy axe murderer, right?"
Alexia laughed softly. "Do I look like an axe murderer to you?"
"I genuinely don't know what axe murderers look like," you said. "Maybe they look like you do."
She chuckled, shaking her head, and you settled into an easy quiet before you broke it.
"So… bachelorette party, huh?" you asked.
"Yeah." Alexia's expression warmed, nodding her head. "Our goalkeeper, Cata, just got engaged. She missed Irene's party and had massive FOMO, so I figured I'd put together something for her. It’s gonna be my engagement gift."
You hummed, nodding. "And you want a different lineup of performances?"
Alexia began pulling out of the lot, brow furrowed in thought. "I'm not entirely sure yet. That's why I wanted to talk to you about it."
You hummed, tilting your head, biting your lip. You hesitated before finally saying. "For a second, I thought you were just finding an excuse to see me again."
She smiled at the road. "Hmm, well, seeing you again is a nice bonus."
You went quiet, feeling the blush spread through your cheeks. You bit your lip and looked out the window, trying to hide your pinked face. Alexia noticed and smiled to herself.
"So," Alexia said. "How's Aina?"
You smiled, feeling a bit warm at the mention of Aina, flattered Alexia had remembered her name. If Aina knew, she would be pleased. "She's okay. She still can't stop talking about the game." You nodded. "She wears your captain's armband to sleep, you know."
"That's so cute." She said, pausing before asking. "So, do you two live with your parents?"
You frowned at the mention of your parents. "I thought we were here to talk about the bachelorette." You said simply.
"You look tired," she said easily, shrugging one shoulder. "Work stuff can wait. Let’s just chat, get to know each other."
You hummed, pausing before shaking your head. “No, we don’t live with our parents.”
“Why is that?” She asked, eyes still on the road.
“Oh, uh, they passed.” You said simply, looking down into your hands. No matter how long it’s been, talking about your parents. It never got easy.
“I’m sorry,” Alexia said, the car coming to a halt as you reached a stop light, she looked over to you, eyes sincere. “I had no idea.”
You shook your head. “No, it’s fine, it’s been years anyway,” You said, brushing it off. “So, yeah, it’s just me, Aina, and well, my roommate. We’re kinda like a small family.”
Alexia nodded. “Oh,” she said with a tone you could not decipher. “That’s good. So, uh, how long have you been with your roommate?”
"It’s been a while since she moved in with us," you responded, not catching what Alexia meant. "Honestly, she's been with us since I was twenty. So, I really can't imagine not having her around."
Alexia nodded slowly. The car went silent for a moment, except for the sound from Alexia’s GPS. She hesitated before asking. “So, doesn’t she get jealous? Like, considering what you do for work?”
You frowned, pausing before looking over at Alexia in confusion. “Why would she be jealous…”
Then it clicked. You looked at her, and the realization broke across your face in a smile you couldn't help. "Oh, you’re fishing," you said. "You are absolutely fishing right now."
"I'm just asking," Alexia said, trying to look casual and nonchalant about it but you could tell she was bluffing.
"You're trying to find out if I'm single." You said, just making it clear.
"...and what if I am?" Alexia responded, a smile growing on her face.
You laughed, shaking your head. For one, there was no way in hell you and Rocío could ever date; you were practically sisters at this point. Secondly, the fact that Alexia Putellas seemed a bit jealous for a moment….
"Alexia. I wouldn't have kissed you if I wasn't." The words left your mouth before you could think better of it. You felt your face go hot but you didn’t take it back. You really didn’t want to bring up the kiss and yet your mouth got the best of you.
Alexia glanced at you, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth, and you quickly looked away.
"Well," she responded, tone light. "I thought maybe that's why you ran off so fast."
You sighed and shook your head. "No. No, that's not…" you exhaled, trying to get your thoughts straight before responding again. "Alexia, I don't usually do that with clients. I mean — I've never done that with a client. I should have been more professional. I don't know what I was thinking."
"Hey." Her voice was easy, looking over at you. “Relax."
You stopped, biting your lip. She turned to look at you at the red light, and her expression was warm and sincere. "It was nice," she said simply.
You held her gaze, taking the moment for what it was. Looking at her, face illuminated by the street lights and the faint red of the stoplight, accentuating her features. You cherished it: a girl driving you home, telling you she liked kissing you, making you feel giddy in ways you haven’t felt in such a long time. You wanted to hold it a little longer.
Unfortunately, your stomach growled and ruined the moment..
You covered your face with both hands. "Oh my god,” you said, embarrassment rushing through you. “That was not — that was not a fart, I need you to know that."
Alexia bursted out laughing, so much so that she almost didn’t notice that the stoplight had gone green. As she calmed down, she said, “Chica, you didn’t tell me you were hungry.”
You just realized that you hadn't actually eaten anything since noon, when you and Rocío split a sad little sandwich at the café before your shift. You meant to grab something before your shift at Somni but it must have slipped your mind.
Your stomach offered another confirmatory rumble.
Alexia tutted her tongue. "That's it. I'm not taking you home like this." She was already signaling to change lanes, going the opposite direction from what was directed in the GPS. "There's a place I know that's still open. Come on, my treat."
"I have to be up early," you said, waving your hands to gesture refusal "I still have to prepare Aina's breakfast —"
"I'll buy enough so you don't have to cook in the morning." She glanced at you, easy, like it was already settled. "You can't go to sleep on an empty stomach."
You looked at her biting your lip before letting yourself smile. There was just something so attractive about a girl who wanted to be with you so much that she’d find a solution to your excuse. You deserved to revel in it for a moment so you nodded and leaned back into your seat.
"Okay," you said. "Let's go."
⋆˙⟡♡ You moaned embarrassingly loud at the first bite of the fried chicken.
Alexia grinned across from you, her own wing already half-eaten. "Right?"
"This is so fucking good," you said, still chewing, covering your mouth with your hand.
"I know." She reached for a napkin, looking genuinely pleased with herself. "My nutritionist is gonna kill me if she finds out I’m eating fried chicken past midnight in the middle of a season.”
The place was small and loud, wedged between two clubs, full of drunk people who were too drunk out of their minds to notice that Alexia Putellas was sitting in the corner at 1 in the morning, splitting a plate of chicken wings with some random girl.
You looked at her and thought about how absurd it was seeing her like this. The whole La Reina thing had always seemed like football hyperbole to you until you saw her like this, in an ordinary place, and understood that it wasn't really just about football at all. She had an almost regal aura, the type that just exuded effortless confidence. It didn’t feel like she belonged here.
She caught you looking. "What?"
"Nothing." You dropped your gaze back to your food. "I just didn't picture you as a fried chicken at one in the morning kind of person."
“Oh trust me, I’m not usually. I typically stick to a diet plan from my nutritionist.” She leaned back slightly, amused, tilting her head to the side. "But what did you picture I was like?"
You thought about it genuinely for a second. "I don't know. You seem like the person who only wines and dines,” you answered. “You know, steak, halibut, filet mignon.”
She fully laughed, her laugh melodic. “Filet mignon? I look like I only eat filet mignon?”
You couldn’t help but smile but still rolled your eyes. “I meant… it just seems uncharacteristic of you to be into fast food. At least from what I hear about you.”
“From what you hear about me huh,” she said, raising both eyebrows, face amused. “And what have you heard?”
You just gave her a shrug and continued to eat your chicken, afraid to accidentally slip and reveal that you have been secretly stalking her online since the first time you met. You didn’t want the fact that you did have a crush on her to get to her head.
“Well, I guess you’d learn there are a lot of things about me that might surprise you.” She said, a smile playing on her face as she took a sip of her water.
"Yeah? Like you regularly take strippers out on fried chicken dates?" You responded quickly.
She nearly choked. You watched her grab a napkin, pressing it to her mouth, shoulders shaking even as she tried to compose herself. She chuckled, coughs coming out as she did. She shook her head. “I mean, I don’t but….” She coughed a bit more, making you chuckle to yourself. As soon as she calmed down, she exhaled and gave you a look, eyes slightly squinted. “Wait, so, this is a date?”
You could feel yourself blush, ashamed at the fact that you said that, but you just tried to play it cool, just giving the Catalan another shrug.
She shook her head slowly, still smiling to herself. "You can call it a date," she nodded. "If you want to."
You put down the chicken wing you had been munching on onto the paper tray before grabbing a paper towel to wipe the sauce off of your hands. You sighed, shaking your head. "I don't think I want my first date in years to be me in an old, ratty tank top at a fried chicken shop full of drunk people."
Alexia’s eyes widened, in disbelief. "Years?"
You scoffed but felt a bit embarrassed. "I'm busy, okay?" You reached for your water. "I have a little sister and two jobs. You try living my life and let’s see if you’ve got time to date.”
Alexia held her hands up in surrender but she was still smiling, and you looked away feeling your energy shift a bit, suddenly feeling out-of-place. She must have noticed your expression because her face grew serious, straightening up her posture.
“Well, you know,” she started, tone careful. “If I were to actually date you, I’d take you somewhere more special, not some small chicken shop. If you’d let me, I’d love to—”
“It’s getting late,” you interrupted, nodding and avoiding her gaze. As much as you enjoyed tonight, how you were able to get to know her more, you knew that hoping for anything more than this was foolish.
This wasn't going anywhere real. Not beyond this booth and this chicken and whatever had already happened between you. The distance between your lives wasn't the kind of thing you could close just by wanting to.
When you finally checked your phone, you sighed, seeing that it actually was way too late. "I really have to go."
Her face dropped but she just nodded. “Yeah, okay,” she said, nodding. “I’ll just order something for Aina then we can go.”
You crossed your arms and nodded, giving her a small smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes.
⋆˙⟡♡ Rocío headed to the moka pot, pouring herself a cup of coffee, looking curiously at you as you took out the reheated chicken from the air fryer. She furrowed her eyebrows together. "Fried chicken for breakfast?" Rocío asked.
"Complaining?" you said, moving past her to the fridge.
"No, just surprised." She turned to watch you, brown hair in a bun that bounced slightly as she walked towards you. "Good tips last night, I assume?"
You grabbed the orange juice and poured yourself a glass. "You could say that." You said with a suggestive tone.
She frowned and opened her mouth as if to say something but Aina came padding out of her room, hair still damp and unbrushed, nose already sniffing about. She stopped in the middle of the kitchen and looked at you.
"Do I smell chicken?” She asked.
You nodded. “Yeah, come, have some, I just heated the chicken up.” You smiled. “I packed you some for lunch too.”
Aina beamed, giddily getting into her chair, grabbing one with her tiny hands. “I thought you didn’t want me eating too much unhealthy food,” she said, sauce all over her mouth.
You smiled. “I had some last night after work and thought it’d be unfair if you didn’t have any.” You responded.
Rocío looked at you over the top of Aina's head with an expression that communicated that you were going to sit down and tell her everything the moment that child was out of earshot. You took a long sip of your orange juice and gave her a small smirk without saying anything at all, which she understood to mean she was completely right.
⋆˙⟡♡ You weren't supposed to be here today.
You had Mondays off and you usually spent your free day either catching up on sleep or treating yourself to a self-date or even a massage, if you had the money. Instead, you were coming to Somni to have a client meeting with Alexia.
Not that you had any complaints. You were going to get paid to plan and well, being around Alexia never really was all that bad. So, when Alexia asked if she could come over to continue planning, you didn’t hesitate too much.
The club was in its pre-shift chaos when Alexia arrived, walking up to you in your area where you were lazily scrolling through your phone and sipping on your coffee. To Alexia, the sight of you was a sharp contrast to everyone else who was moving in every direction, zipping each other up in costumes, gluing lashes and having multiple, overlapping conversations.
“Girlfriend alert,” Sol blurted out as she passed by your station, borrowing your setting spray without even asking.
You looked up from your phone to see Alexia walking towards you, dressed in a sleeveless black top and baggy jeans sitting low on her hips, waist showing and arms bare. Two of your coworkers noticed her before you could even get to her and you caught your co-worker’s looks as you did. You were going to hear about this later.
She smiled, then let her eyes drift around the room, taking it in. "Gets busy here, huh?"
"That was why I asked you to meet earlier," you said, and then immediately softened it because you hadn't meant it to come out quite that way. "It gets hectic here at this time."
"Yeah, but I really couldn’t meet any earlier. I had crazy meetings," She said with a shrug. Her eyes scanned you as she said it.
You were out-of-costume today but you were slightly made-up today. You were wearing a strappy, black top and jeans. You didn’t have much product on your face since on your days off, you liked to let your skin breathe but you did have some tinted moisturizer and a light lip gloss.
Alexia smiled, thinking to herself that she liked this version of you more. "We kinda match," She said instead, gesturing towards your outfits. “That’s cute.”
You chose not to engage with that particular observation but that didn’t make you blush any less. "Uh, I think we should go to the private room," you said, gesturing to the private rooms. "We're not going to get anything done out here with all this happening."
She nodded and let you lead the way.
⋆˙⟡♡ You headed to the same room you were in before. You pushed the door open and crossed to the light panel on the wall, turning on only the fluorescents instead of the red lights. You didn’t want to create too much ambience like you did last time.
Alexia closed the door from behind her. You settled onto the couch and pulled up your notes app, waiting for Alexia to sit next to you. Instead, she drifted toward the costume racks, fingers trailing along hangers, carefully looking through the clothes.
You just let her explore, figuring it’d be less unnerving than with her sitting next to you, hazel eyes gazing at you as she did.
"Tell me about Cata," you said. "What does she like, music-wise? What kind of energy is she?"
"Uh, well, upbeat?" Alexia said, still moving along the rack, not looking at you. "I know she likes reggaeton, pop. Y’know, energetic music." She paused somewhere in the middle and her hand stopped moving, and then she turned around holding the Little Bo Peep costume out in front of her on its hanger, apron and crook and all. Her face beamed with amusement "Please tell me this is yours."
"No way. That was Sol’s," you said, waving the costume off dismissively before continuing in your questioning. "So... Cata likes upbeat, maybe something more dance-heavy. Would you want it to stay mostly in that lane or would you want a mix of different styles, because I was thinking of pulling in one of Sol's other pieces, there's this burlesque number she does with a giant martini glass. It’s very theatrical and classic but I do think it costs a bit more, given all the work that goes into it.”
"A mix sounds good," Alexia said, barely paying attention as she returned the costume to the rack. "Whatever you think works. Keep your solo in though. I liked it."
You made a note. She was already moving further down the rack. You watched her for a second before looking back at your phone.
A sound escaped Alexia’s lips, something that sounded a lot like delight, like she found something interesting. You looked up and she was holding out a blaugrana bikini top and tiny matching shorts, clearly a nod to Barça. "Did you–”
"Absolutely not,” you responded, interrupting her. “One of the retired girls wore that. It was from when I was new and before Pilar took over. The old director thought sexy and vulgar were the same thing. That whole performance involved sitting on giant footballs and making sex faces. I don’t think anyone liked the idea except him?”
Alexia laughed, shaking her head at the ridiculous idea. You smiled but tried not to get yourself too carried away from the planning.
"Have you worn any of these?" she asked, still at the rack.
You looked up at Alexia who was already anticipating your answer. She pouted a bit and raised her eyebrows. “C’mon, YN. Indulge me,” she said.
You couldn’t help the smile on your face. You looked down on your phone before rolling your eyes, standing up with a groan. “Fine, just cause you asked nicely.”
You walked towards the other rack beside it. You didn’t have to look for too long because it was immediately apparent what it was. You pulled it off of the hanger and showed it to Alexia
It was a neon pink, high-cut one-piece with ankle warmers tucked into the inner part of the hanger. It looked exactly as bad as you remembered.
Alexia stared at it, looking amused and full of disbelief. "That's an eighties workout instructor outfit."
"Well, It was an eighties workout themed dance," you said, sighing. "My first solo piece. I want you to know that I genuinely almost quit after my first performance. It was so, so bad.”
"Pilar took over shortly after and retired the whole concept immediately." You put the costume back on its hanger, which was where it belonged, in the past with the rest of that era. "She had an actual vision. The old director just had a permanent boner and no taste."
Alexia laughed but then went quiet. You were half-way back to the couch when you heard Alexia hum. You looked back at her, seeing a small smirk on her face, eyes looking at you with a look you couldn’t figure out.
You tilted her head at her, waiting for her to say what she wanted to say.
"I want to see you in it," she said finally.
You shook your head and put a hand up at her. "No,” you said with finality. “Absolutely not.”
"Just to see what it looks like,” she asked again. “Please?”
"You're looking at it right now." You gestured towards the hanger. “You put it on if you want.”
She bit the inside of her lower lip and the pout resurfaced, eyes pleading. "It's for the bachelorette," she tried. "I need a full sense of what you can do."
You gave her a frown. "That doesn't follow logically."
She just looked at you with a pleading look. You looked away and shook your head, mostly in disbelief with yourself that for a second, you almost let a thirty year old giving you puppy dog eyes convince you to wear that.
"It probably won't even fit the same," you commented.. "I was like twenty when I last wore it."
Alexia shrugged. “I mean, you won’t find out if you don’t try.”
You looked at her and she just looked back at you, already waiting. Something told you that you weren’t going to get any planning done tonight if you didn’t give in to this one request.
You groaned.
"Fine," you said. "But you have to agree to actually plan after I try it on.”
Alexia nodded. “Of course, of course, this is all just part of it.
⋆˙⟡♡ The outfit fit better than you expected and now that your body had grown more mature, it looked even better than before: tighter across the chest and fuller through the hips. You took one last look at yourself in the mirror before adjusting your hair slightly.
You bit your lip, thankful that you looked pretty good because part of you was worried that you’d look ridiculous, and ridiculous was the last thing you wanted to look like around Alexia Putellas.
You pulled back the curtain from the make-shift changing area and immediately saw Alexia who was now sitting on the seat in front of the stage, sitting forward to face you, alert in a way that was so genuine that it almost made you laugh.
When she saw you, her whole face beamed and she smiled, eyes taking you in as she did.
"Okay," you said, crossing your arms. "You've seen it. Can I change back now?"
Alexia stood up. “No!” She said, taking a step towards you. “I want to see your dance.”
"I don't remember the dance,” you lied, shaking your head
Alexia shrugged. “Then just show me what you remember."
You shifted your weight, suddenly self-conscious and shy. "I don't have the music either."
Alexia chuckled before walking towards you, gently taking your hand and guiding you to the stage. “I have a good imagination,” she shared as if to convince you. “I’ll fill it in.”
You stood there on the stage and looked at her and thought about all the perfectly reasonable things you could say next, all the ways you could redirect this back toward the planning you were supposed to be doing, and then you thought about the fact that it was your day off and you had come in anyway and she was sitting there looking at you like you were the most interesting thing in the room without apparently trying to, and you thought, fine.
No harm in letting yourself have fun.
“Uh, I guess, there was some of this,” you said, starting off the choreography.
You did a power-pose before continuing the bits that you remembered. It was awfully a lot like those old workout shows except with way more bending over, squats and rolling your hips. Back then, you felt so grossed out every time you were performing it but now, with Alexia, you were kind of enjoying doing parts of the dance as you narrated.
"This part," you said, demonstrating a sequence of counted squats paired with a hip thrust on each beat. "I remember clearly that this was the part that got the most applause"
Alexia tried not to laugh, biting her lip. You pointed at her. “I’m serious,” you said, still laughing. “It was a banger.”
Alexia finally let herself laugh, shaking her head at the ridiculousness of it all. “There’s absolutely no way that this is the actual performance.”
You stopped and gestured at her. “Exactly!” You exclaimed. “I’m telling you. The old Somni just did a bunch of horny bullshit.”
Alexia continued to laugh. You smiled and stepped off the stage and talked directly to her chair, holding out your hand. "Yeah, you're doing this with me,” you urged. “You made me wear this. It’s the least you can do.”
She shook her head and yet allowed you to drag her on stage with you. "I don't know any of it."
“Just think that I’m those instructor ladies and follow,” you said, putting your hands on your hips.
Alexia sighed, shaking her head but she smoothened her jeans before she got into the same position as you. You instructed her to spread her legs wide before telling her to follow your steps. Alexia did it with some self-consciousness and hesitation.
“Don’t think too much about it,” you reprimanded. “Just try it.”
"Okay, okay, I’m trying.” She said, chuckling. “It’s not exactly easy to do this in jeans.”
“Wanna switch outfits?” You joked.
“Sounds like a threat,” she quipped back jokingly.
You nodded. “It absolutely is. Now, lock in.”
Alexia followed along, struggling to keep up but you made her do all the squats and high kicks anyway. In the middle of it all, there was more laughing than dancing. You stumbled through it but by the time you got to the squats so deep that your bum touched the floor, Alexia was laughing so hard that she was inconsolable, clutching her stomach as she knelt on the stage.
You eventually gave up, sitting beside her, laughing together at the ridiculousness of it all. At this point, you two were too tired and out-of-it to even continue planning.
And yet, you couldn't make yourself care about it even a little bit.
⋆˙⟡♡ The planning sessions happened more often.
You were seeing Alexia almost every other day, talking and laughing the entire night, barely getting any planning done which gave both of you an excuse to keep seeing each other to actually “plan.”
But you didn’t really mind. Hanging out with Alexia made going to work so much more enjoyable, even if it meant going home later and feeling more physically tired the next morning.
All of it seemed worth it because every morning after those late-night sessions, you would wake up with an easier feeling. You seemed to have a much lighter disposition too.
You didn’t bother telling Rocío too much about it. You didn’t need her further feeding into your delusions. The last thing you wanted was to be carried away, and actually let yourself get too invested with Alexia. For now, it was light and fun, nothing too serious. Just like you intended it.
And it worked out pretty well. You managed to keep it a secret and to convince Rocío that the reason why you were coming home late was because of some new promo Somni was doing. Rocío somehow bought it.
Which was why it was so shocking when Aina seemed to notice it before Rocío could even grow suspicious.
On your day off, while you were preparing dinner, Aina watched as you hummed along to the song playing on the speakers. She tilted her head, trying to make sure she was seeing and hearing you right.
“YN,” she called over from her seat on the dining table.
You looked over to her, raising your eyebrows inquisitively. She paused, hesitating for a while as if she wasn’t sure how to ask, before continuing. “Are you seeing anyone?”
Rocío, who was setting up the table, let out a snort once she heard Aina’s question. You let out a nervous chuckle as you fully turned your body to completely face her, eyebrows furrowed. “Seeing anyone? Why would you think that, Nana?”
You turned back to the tomatoes, shaking your head, hiding the fact that your face was starting to grow pink. From her seat, Aina continued to just look at you, barely paying attention to the video playing on her iPad. She shrugged. “You seem happy lately.”
You kept your eyes on the food. "What? But I'm always happy,” you tried to sound convincing but even you knew that you weren’t selling it.
"No, I mean like." She said, explaining as she pushed the stray hair from her face. "You’re like a different happy."
"Nothing's different,” you responded with a lighthearted tone. “Maybe I’m just excited for you to taste this pasta I’m cooking.”
Aina hummed, not buying it. You turned to check her reaction. She was looking up, as if thinking to herself. Rocío gave you an amused smile, now incredibly intrigued with the topic, looking at you with an expression of disbelief.
“No, cause you’ve also been coming home later,” she said. “When I wake up in the middle of the night to go to you, you’re usually in bed already. But lately, you don’t get home until even much later.”
Rocío chuckled. “You’ve got a point, Nana.”
Aina nodded, looking validated. “And the other night, YN, I was pretending to be asleep beside you when I heard you giggling while looking at your phone,” she said more accusatorily. “And I’m sure you weren’t just looking at memes.”
You sighed, trying to think quickly, wiping your hands on a kitchen towel. "I… have new friends at work. One of them sent me a funny photo,” you lied.
Aina squinted, still not buying it. “I mean, I wouldn’t mind if you had a girlfriend. It’d actually be nice for you to have some romance in your life.”
At this point, Rocío was fully laughing at the sound of the little girl talking so maturely. Aina looked over to her then at you, shrugging as if she didn’t understand why you two were laughing at her. “I’m serious,” she commented, frowning and shaking her head. “I might get a partner before you do at this point, YN,” she looked pointedly at Rocío. “You too, Rocío.”
You and Rocío exchanged glances, as if you couldn’t believe what Nana was saying.
You chuckled, thinking that you certainly had to be more careful around your sister now.
⋆˙⟡♡ You smiled to yourself as you read Alexia’s text after that night’s performance. She instructed you to wait for her in the private room, which was now becoming your regular space.
You changed out of your costume hurriedly and headed to the room, waiting patiently as you sat on the stage where you two usually liked to sit. Alexia showed up soon after, carrying a heavy-looking totebag, bearing a smile already.
You smiled at her, feeling your heart flutter as she flashed her smile at you. Alexia was so good-looking that you weren’t sure when you would get used to it. Weeks later and she was still giving you butterflies just by smiling at you.
“Took you long enough,” you jokingly said.
She shrugged. “Sorry, I had to get something from the car before I headed here.”
You raised your eyebrows, waiting for her to elaborate.
She stopped in front of you before grabbing a bottle of wine from her tote bag. “Thought we could do some wine tasting,” she handed it to you before taking another one out of the bag. “I figured out you could help me decide which wine we should have for Cata’s bachelorette.”
You looked at the bottle then back at her and the giddy look on her face. “Pretty sure wine tasting requires more than two bottles," you said to Alexia who was now sitting beside you on the stage. “You just wanna drink, don’t you?”
“And you don’t?” Alexia counterd
You chuckled. “Never said that.”
Alexia chuckled, pulling out two flimsy-looking, plastic wine glasses out of her tote bag and a wine opener. She smiled and took the wine bottle from your hand, opening it up and pouring you both a glass.
You took yours from her. “Plastic wine glasses?” you said as you made a face at her before taking a sip of the wine.
She rolled her eyes. “Awful lot of complaints from a girl who's drinking 200-euro wine for free.”
You stopped drinking, shaking your head. “200 euros? What business do we have drinking wine that costs that much while on the floor of a strip club?”
She gave you a shrug and a chuckle. “I told you – wine tasting.” She gestured for you to clink glasses. “Salut.”
“Salut,” you said with a small smile, clinking with Alexia before taking another sip, finally able to appreciate it more now. “Mmm, smooth.”
Alexia nodded before grabbing the other bottle and opening it up. “Guess how much this one cost.”
You glanced at the bottle, seeing a familiar label, chuckling to yourself. “Oh I know a 7-euro bottle when I see one,” you smiled. “I’ve finished one of those all by myself several times before.”
Alexia smiled. “Then consider this a reunion between old friends.”
After you finished your glass, she refilled it with the cheaper wine. You swirled it around your glass, mimicking an actual wine taster, sniffing it before drinking it, smacking your lips pretentiously. “Ahhh, yes, tastes like supermarket wine.”
Alexia took a sip of hers and shook her head. “Personally, I don’t think I can tell that much of a difference,” she commented.
“Maybe that’s because the 200-euro one is something you’re used to,” you responded. “I can definitely taste the difference.”
Alexia shrugged. “I like it better with some Pepsi anyway.”
You chuckled, rolling your eyes before trying to finish the wine from your glass just so you could taste more of the expensive one. It wasn’t everyday you could enjoy good wine with a gorgeous footballer.
Alexia took one more sip of hers, eyes fixed on you, before asking. “So, why don’t we make this wine tasting a bit more interesting?”
You hummed. “Hmm, are you gonna tell me you got some tapas hidden in that bag too?”
Alexia laughed. “Unfortunately not,” she said. “I meant… maybe we should get to know each other. Ask questions while we drink.”
You raised an eyebrow. “Haven’t we been doing that? I don’t think we’ve planned anything in the last few meetings we’ve had just because all we’ve done is get to know each other.”
She shrugged. “Not enough. All you talk about is work.”
You hummed, thinking as you sipped on your wine. “Okay, let’s do it only if we’re back to business next session. No more impromptu dance sessions and wine tastings.”
Alexia chuckled. “Yeah, promise.”
⋆˙⟡♡ The rules to Alexia’s drinking game were simple. You asked each other questions and if you didn't want to answer you drank instead without having to explain.
It started light. She asked you about your best and worst experiences working at Somni, about how you ended up here. She asked about Aina, how it felt like raising her, and how you met Rocío. On the other hand, you asked her about if all the fame and accolades got to her head. You asked about dealing with fans, the pressure of football.
But after you were halfway through both wine bottles, the questions got more personal and intimate, forcing you two to even drink more too.
Alexia hummed, an expression on her face that told you she was about to ask something scandalous. “Hmm, have you ever felt yourself get aroused while performing for a client?”
You hummed, making her wait for the answer. “I guess you can say that,” you responded, not wanting to drink. Alexia waited for you to elaborate but you waved her off. “You only asked if I had been and not how it was like.”
Alexia bit her lip, eyes heavy with inebriation and playful look on her face. At this point, she was resting on the stage, partially laying down and propping herself up with her hand by her side. “I have a good guess as to who though.” She said with a wink.
You rolled your eyes. “You’re too conceited.”
Alexia just chuckled. “Okay, your turn.”
You hummed, thinking your question through. You looked at Alexia, who was anticipating your question. You moved your head closer to her. "Is there actually a bachelorette or is it mostly just an excuse to come see me?"
Alexia’s smile dropped for a moment before it came back, a bit shyer. She chuckled as she looked down at her glass, just briefly, and then back at you.
"I mean, there is a bachelorette,” she paused. “But… the planning is mostly bullshit.”
You chuckled. Alexia bit her lip. “Is that embarrassing to admit?" she asked, blush spreading across her face. You held the answer and sat with it for a second. Then you picked up your glass and drank.
Alexia widened her eyes, realizing she had wasted her question. “No, no fair,” she said. “You knew that wasn’t an actual question.”
You gave her a coy smile and a shrug. “Sounded like an actual question to me,” you chuckled. “My turn again.”
Alexia sighed, rolled her eyes but gestured for you to go on.
You looked at her. The wine was sitting warm in you and you were suddenly aware of how close she was and of the way she was looking at you. You smiled at her before looking away again.
You paused before you finally asked. "Why didn't you just ask me out?" you asked. "Instead of making up this whole elaborate reason to see me."
Alexia looked at you for a moment before looking away again, shifting her focus on the wine glass. She swirled it around a couple of times. "Well, if I did," she said, pausing to lock eyes with you. "Would you have said yes?"
You held her gaze for just a moment, looking between both her eyes as she looked at you with a sincerity that could not be faked. You smirked at her before finally raising your glass to your lips, taking another sip.
Alexia exhaled a short disbelieving laugh, shaking her head. "That's not fair. This really is not fair.”
“You gotta learn your lesson, Putellas.” you teased.
“I’m drunk,” she reasoned out, pouting. “It’s hard to keep up with this game, okay?”
“You made it!” You countered.
Alexia huffed. “Well, I still hate it.”
You laughed at her. “Okay, my turn again.”
Alexia sighed and waited.
You leaned in closer to her, making her wait for the question. "Is it obvious…" you started. She turned to look at you, waiting, eyes flickering between your eyes and lips. You smirked before continuing. "Is it obvious that I want to kiss you right now?"
Alexia’s eyebrow raised a bit, smiling to herself. She held your gaze before putting down her glass then taking yours, setting it aside with hers. Then she just looked at you, biting her lip.
“Well?” you prodded. “Is it —”
Suddenly, Alexia grabbed your face, capturing your lips with hers. She moved closer to you and you let her, holding onto her shoulders now. Alexia snaked her arm around your waist, gently laying you down onto the hardwood stage as she made her way on top of you, parting your legs so that she could slot herself between it.
Her kiss wasn’t tentative at all. You could feel it: all the tension from the last meetings you’ve had in this room, the fact that neither of you acknowledged in detail what happened between you two before. It felt like she was holding onto it for so long and was letting all of it out now.
Alexia’s left hand found its way under your shirt, gripping your waist with a firmness that felt almost possessive. You felt her tongue swipe against your lips, waiting for you to part her lips more as her tongue entered it. You moaned as she deepened the kiss, arching your back into her.
You pressed your tongue firmly against hers, following her lead. Alexia’s moan vibrated in your mouth. Alexia’s lips gave yours one last peck before she pressed one on the cheek beside it, then your jaw, then your neck. A sharp inhale left your mouth as you felt her mouth form a suction on your neck, kissing it in a way you were certain would leave a mark.
You wrapped your arms around her, overwhelmed with pleasure. Alexia put both her hands behind you before swiftly and effortlessly lifting you up and smoothly changing your positions so that you were straddling her lap.
Her hands now settled on your hip, just above your denim shorts, gripping tightly before guiding your hips to grind against her lap. Alexia continued to kiss your neck as you did, a string of soft moans escaping your mouth.
You began to move your hips on your own, settling nicely with one of her thighs slotted in between your legs. You continued to grind against her, biting your lip and tilting your head back in pleasure. Alexia’s hands now moved to the bottom of your tank top, pulling it upward to take it off, leaving you completely topless.
“No bra,” Alexia hummed it against your neck, not as a question, more as a statement. She pulled away to look at you, to take in the sight of you, pupils practically blown out at this point. “You’re so gorgeous.”
Before you could react, her hands were on your body as she captured your breasts with her mouth. You moaned louder at the sensation of her warm mouth on your nipple, continuing to grind against her as you felt her tongue move against it, moving in circles before flicking it up and down.
You felt her bite at it lightly, eliciting a louder reaction from you, before wrapping her mouth once more around it. Alexia’s other hand moved onto your other boob, squeezing it against her hand before rolling your nipples with her hands, pinching lightly at it to mimic what she was doing with her mouth.
You were so overwhelmed by the sensation and the feeling of Alexia pleasuring your chest that it took you over a minute to realize that your phone was ringing. You frowned to yourself at first, thinking about what was making that annoying sound, before finally realizing that it was your phone.
Your eyes opened quickly, tapping Alexia to stop, getting up so fast that the room tilted a bit as you did. You grabbed your top from the stage floor, haphazardly covering yourself up with it, as you crossed the room quickly, rummaging through your bag to get your phone.
You cursed once you saw the time on the blindingly bright screen. It was almost 5 am – the time you typically woke up to prepare for Aina’s day. Rocío was calling.
“Hola? Yeah, is Aina okay?” You said, clutching the top closely to your chest.
“Yeah, she isn’t up yet,” Rocío said in a hushed but concerned voice. “Where are you? I woke up and you still weren’t here.”
You bit your lip and looked over at Alexia who was looking at you from the stage, looking equally frazzled. “I, uh —” You stumbled for a reason. “I was with a client.”
Rocío went silent. “It’s Alexia, isn’t it?” She asked.
“Well,” you said, nervously bringing your thumb to your mouth, slightly nipping at the nail.
“So, Aina was right,” Rocío said, tone pleased but also accusatory. “God, I can’t believe you’ve been hiding this from me. I hate you, ugh, but whatever, that’s besides the point. Aina’s gonna wake up soon and I don’t know how to explain to her why you’re not home yet at this time.”
“Uh, just tell her I went on a run,” you responded as you struggled to singlehandedly put your top back on.
“A run.” Rocío deadpanned.
“I don’t know, Rocío, but I’ll be there soon. Just take care of it before I get there,” You said, hurriedly grabbing your stuff, slinging the bag on your shoulder before hanging up.
You turned to Alexia. “I, uh, I gotta go.”
She didn't argue. She was already reaching for her phone. "Clearly, I can’t drive us but I can book an Uber. I'm taking you home."
"You don't have to do that, I can book it myself.” You said, scrolling through your app lists.
"You're not getting a cab at four in the morning by yourself." She said it plainly, not like a discussion. "I’m gonna make sure you get home safe."
⋆˙⟡♡ You sat beside Alexia in the back of the car with her jacket pulled around you, watching the blocks go past, neither of you talking.
She was warm beside you, her arm against yours. She was looking straight ahead, watching the street.
When the car pulled up outside your building she got out with you, which you hadn't expected. You thought she was literally just going to drop you off. Instead, she shut the door behind her as the Uber drove off.
“How are you getting home?”
She shrugged casually, both hands in her pockets. “I can just get another Uber.”
You nodded, biting your lip as you stood facing each other on the sidewalk in front of your place, feeling the cold morning air nip at your exposed cheeks.
"I should go up," you said as you took her jacket off, handing it back to her.
She nodded as she took it from you, not moving yet. She gave you a small smile and an expression you could not read. "Say hi to Aina for me,” she said.
You looked at her flatly. "I will absolutely not be doing that,” you responded. “She has no clue you and I are… hanging out. And if she finds out, I doubt I’ll ever hear the end of it.”
Alexia laughed. "Fair point."
After the chuckles dissipated, you both just stood there for a moment longer, as if neither of you knew what to say at this point. You crossed your arms, starting to feel more of the cold against your skin without her jacket. You watched a car pass on the street behind her before awkwardly looking down on your feet, trying to piece your words together as you did, still feeling a bit light-headed from the wine.
"Look," you started, trying to sound firm and serious. "I like this. All of this, the last few weeks, I've liked it more than I probably should have let myself." You nodded, watching Alexia’s expression.
You sighed, looking away again, feeling uneasy with the way those hazel eyes looked at you so earnestly. "But I have a life that I actually have to be present for,” you continued. “I have Aina; she relies on me. I can't just lose track of time because I'm having a good night and roll through the door at four in the morning like I don't have anyone counting on me. I'm not in a position to be careless about it."
You stopped. You hadn't entirely meant to say that much. But now, it was out there and you felt slightly exposed by it. You nodded, almost to yourself, as if urging you to get it done and over with.
“And quite frankly, I can’t keep playing flirty event planner anymore. I really enjoy it – I promise I do – but I don’t think it’s good for either of us to keep up this illusion that this is going somewhere,” you said, exhaling as you locked eyes with her again. “I just need you to understand that,"
Alexia was quiet for a moment. She hadn't looked away from you and there was nothing defensive or hurt in her expression. She looked like she was actually listening to what you were saying and taking it in, trying to understand your situation.
After a moment, she nodded. "I understand," she said.
You looked at her and nodded. "Good."
She gave you a small shrug then a small smile. "So then let's do it properly."
You frowned. “What?”
"No more showing up after your shift when it's already late. No more pretending the bachelorette is the point when we both know it's not." She said it calmly, like she'd been thinking about it too. "Let me take you out on a real date. I'll pick you up, we'll have a proper night, and I'll have you home before the clock strikes midnight.” She chuckled at her own joke.
You bit your lip, certainly not expecting Alexia to actually ask you out. You had said to yourself that you weren’t going to let yourself get too deep into this thing with Alexia, that you were going to keep your walls up and your boundaries clear. And yet, as she said those words, you felt an immense wave of relief, as if your subconscious had been waiting for her to ask you that.
"A real date," you said, almost to yourself as if just to hear it.
"A real date," she confirmed.
You stood there on the pavement outside your building, the wine mostly worn off now, the morning quiet enough that you could hear yourself think.
You looked at Alexia again, taking the look of her in, and just how different she looked now. You noticed how the early morning made her hair look lighter, how she looked softer at this hour, how her eyes had a different glean to them.
You were used to seeing Alexia in the dark of the club, to seeing her as a client and to keep that line between you clearly drawn. And yet here she was – standing outside with you in the early morning, looking at you with the most genuine expression you had seen. You were, quite literally, seeing her in a different light.
And something about it was making it harder for you to stop yourself from giving in.
"Okay," you said quietly. "I'd like that."
The smile that crossed her face was small, almost private and restrained, as if she was trying hard not to react too much. "Good," she said with a nod. “That’s good.”
You felt your own smile grow on your face before you could stop it. You looked down at the pavement for a moment because looking at her again. "Good," you said back.
You stood facing each other awkwardly, not moving or saying anything for a moment. You laughed first, feeling a mixture of giddy and awkward at the situation. She caught it and smiled again, wider this time.
"I’ll text you the details," she said with a smile. “But for now, maybe you should get to your sister.”
You nodded. “Yeah,” you said as you took a couple steps back toward your building, biting your lip. “Guess this means I’ll see you soon?”
Alexia smiled wider. “Guess you will.”
You bit your lip, nodding before fully turning to walk back to your building. “Good night, Alexia.” you said one last time as you looked back at her.
She chuckled. "Good morning, YN."
a/n: ack long ass chapter. i'm sorry it took so long but i hope it was worth it. barely had time to proofread; ill do it after i post hahaha anyway, please comment if u want to be added to the taglist to be notified for the next part!
You had always been able to rely on your body. You're invisible. So, why, with this most important thing, is it failing not just you, but also your wife?
TW: Failed IVF. Smut(!) 18+.
1st of 3 parts.
I can't thank @muffinpink02 enough for their help with this. Seriously. This fic wouldn't be on paper without her. For over a year she's read and reread this I don't know how she has the patience.
And I would have probably had a mental health crisis without the therapy sessions she's delivered at 2am.
Also, more for you. Thank her for the smattering of smut in this because the thing would be a 12a rating if it was up to me alone. She's a real one ✌️
As ever, here's the song the fic is based on. And yes. The Mamma Mia version. The only correct version.
I'm sorry for taking so long with this, but I assure you the next 2 parts are written and scheduled to be posted so there will be no 18 month wait! (this time) also, the other parts need to be read for this part - it wont make much sense otherwise.
Alexia had always wanted kids.
If you’d asked her even before she realised she wanted to be a professional footballer, or had any chance to think of what she wanted her life to look like.
She knew she’d wanted kids.
When she realised that she was gay, it had never entered her head that her future wouldn’t involve her having children. Not even a barrier to overcome.
Her childhood with Alba. All of her tios and tias. Having 4 houses in town to call her own and wander into, whenever she wanted. Door always unlocked. Finding a cousin in the square to kick a football around with without having to arrange beforehand. Huge family dinners that lasted hours.
That's what she wanted for her kids.
A big family.
Full of love.
And food.
Loud and chaotic.
When she met you, she didn’t realise it, but that dream changed.
It was a difficult enough change for you to be settled into Barcelona from your nomad life. She knew you’d given up a lot to be with her. For gods sake you’d literally broken up for over a year because Mapi had made a comment about you being wifed up.
There was nothing more cementing in life than kids.
So yeah, the dream had changed. When she met you. Her heart literally left her chest and attached itself to you. It was dangerous, having her heart wandering up and down mountains, outside of her body and unable to be protected.
And it scared her.
She thought she was actually going to die the day that your mum told her you’d gone missing on Everest.
She couldn't explain in words how much she loved you. You stole the breath from her lungs with a simple look.
Her knees weakened watching you stir your tea in your pajamas on a Sunday morning, all soft and sleepy.
Your easy nature and thoughtfulness powered her to be a better person.
Your humour made her sides hurt with laughter. Your kindness was quiet, unassuming and ever present, she thought it was the stuff people used to write poems about.
So no. Her dream changed. You never mentioned wanting kids. And all she wanted was you.
So it was simple.
She would be the cool gay Tia. Though. In her family, there were only gay Tias. A whole team of them in fact.
She was fine with that. She really really was. But then she’d started to notice how you’d gaze adoringly at kids in the supermarket, how you’d look after your faux nieces and nephews in Mario's kids - taking a moment to press a kiss to their heads or double knot their laces before taking them to the park.
How you’d facetime your own nieces and nephews religiously, pulling faces to make them laugh from miles away.
She let herself hope, then.
Maybe. Maybe. Maybe.
You’d started to drop hints, but she didn’t want to scare you off. You started to discuss ideas for the future, flippant comments made about growing into your home.
But she never let herself hope too much.
She was a professional footballer, and you still worked in the mountains.
It wasn’t a realistic goal at that time, so there was no point in worrying about it.
It was when she'd noticed your postcards on the fridge. The 7 postcards you had sent her, well 6 sent and 1 hand delivered. They'd been the staple of your Barcelona apartment and now your rural home.
But now, she noticed, 3 of them were covered, by a paper crinkled and covered in a messy splodge of paint, magnets holding it up crookedly, she couldn’t even guess what it was supposed to represent.
Just as she reached a hand out to straighten it when you’d bumbled into the room, arms full of shopping.
“Ey, Love, there you are! Come help, muscles.” you’d teased as she relieved your arms full of groceries and started to help pack them away. She nodded her head over to the fridge,
“Amor, qué es eso” “Huh?” you’d glanced over,
“Oh, I was painting with Mario and the kids today, and Bruno made it for me! Isn’t it great! It's me and you! He’s like Banksy!” you’d replied, so enthusiastically it made her heart melt, and she couldn’t do anything but smile and agree, even if she couldn’t decipher any image from the mess on the fridge.
She pressed a deep kiss into your lips, breathing you in as she closed her eyes.
You got lost in the kiss, trying but failing to pull away as Alexia deepens it, pushing you against the counter and slipping her tongue into your mouth. As she finally pulled away you took a second, dazed,
“What was that for?” you’d asked, breathlessly.
“Because I love you.” was the only reply she could think of giving.
Charming smile delivered as standard. Not wanting to blurt out, ‘love of my life, think! That could be our kids' art on the fridge!’.
She knew you needed to come to her. You needed to make that decision for yourself. She knew what you wanted before you did.
But she didn’t want to push you.
She knew though, deep down, that covering those postcards meant something more.
When you’d asked her if she was ready. Somewhat out of the blue that night in bed. She was taken aback, as though her body wasn’t ready for how full of love it was.
It was the easiest yes of her life. And as she held you, later that night. After you’d both tried to defy science and make your own babies. She couldn’t believe all of her dreams had come true.
Alexia wasn’t a religious woman.
Not particularly, she’d gone to church as a child, but soon fell out of that after her papi had passed. She didn’t know what she believed in really, but that night, with you in her arms gentle breaths hitting her neck as you slept, she found herself closing her eyes and praying. She didn’t ask for anything, no. She found herself saying thank you.
To whatever was up there. Thank You. For this perfect life, with everything she could have ever dreamt of and more.
But now.
At this moment.
Months later.
She pinpoints that moment as the moment things started to fall apart.
All she could do was ask, why?
As she held your trembling body tightly against hers, in the darkness of the room, the sounds of your sobs breaking her heart into a million pieces, as she rocked you and tried to settle you. Every now and again mumbling through your tears, mindless mumblings of despair, questioning what you’d done wrong to deserve this.
Her strong wife.
Her strong English wife who never let herself cry.
Who always had the answer.
Who was always the protector.
Destroyed in her arms.
A shadow of the woman she knew you to be.
She found herself closing her eyes again, her own tears leaking out, and speaking to God again. But this time, Why? she thought.
Willing anything for an answer.
Anything.
Anything to soothe your pain.
What have we done wrong? Why would you do this to us? She doesn’t deserve this, Why, Why, Why?
You were both the same that way, but she took it beyond. She lived on a rigid schedule, meals planned, hours planned, training sessions planned, she had to, that's why she was La Reina.
Her life had been carefully planned since she was 6. It was a schedule of success.
You planned too. You had to. Fail to prepare, prepare to fail and all that. But you were a bit more fast and loose with your schedule. You may decide at the last minute to wander into the wilderness, but you would always have the right kit.
When Alexia sat you down, the same week after Man V Woman aired, after your midnight confession of wanting to start thinking about children, your wife's organisation shocked even yourself.
You’d come home from teaching a night class about fire starting, expecting a quiet house with Ale watching a replay of her latest UWCL game as standard.
And yes, you were met with a quiet house, but instead of the glow of the TV you expected and your Spaniard muttering to herself, you found a projector set up, a whiteboard with some sort of timetable worked out, and… yes.
Your Spaniard muttering to herself.
Pacing.
You dropped your bag to the kitchen floor (she hated that. That's why you did it) and knew she was lost in her head when she turned but did not scold you.
“Hola, Love… what’s all…” you vaguely gestured towards her complicated set-up.. “This?”
“¡Amor, estás en casa! Bien!” she’d bound over to you and man-handled you onto the couch, moving to stand in front of you like you were back in school and she was a teacher.
“This is our plan!” she presented to you, proudly. “Our plan?” “Si, Si, mirar…” she clicked a remote that she apparently had hidden in the waistband of her joggers, the projector came alive and the room was bathed in the white glow of the screen, you looked up and saw…
‘Project Putellas 2.0’
Plastered across the screen in the most basic clipart word 1992 had ever made, your wife not giving Bill Gates a run for his money.
“...Putellas 2.0” you read aloud to yourself as Alexia nodded eagerly, eyes not straying from your face, you turned your attention to her, “What was the first project Putellas?”
“That was you! Obviously.”
“Obviously.” you deadpan.
“Yep! Mapi helped me with that one when I was planning on asking you to marry me. She showed me how to add a pie chart! Look!”
“You had a powerpoint for our engagement?” you asked, amusedly, as she clicks through her adorable slideshow, nodding at your question, you can’t help but continue “Did your powerpoint include the bit where you were so nervous you dropped the ring into the lake and then cried when I jumped in and found it?
“Shut up, I cried ‘cause I was happy and you were naked.”
“I didn’t pack a swimsuit! But, of course. tonta yo…. Oh! Picky bits!” your attention was grabbed by the coffee table which you just noticed Alexia had set out small bowls of food, as you realised you hadn’t eaten anything yet for dinner. “My favourite!”
“You know I hate it when you call it that. It’s Tapas!” you rolled your eyes at her as you stuffed some olives into your mouth “you pick at it though”, you’d grumbled through a mouthful, ignored by your wife,
“I thought we could go through my proposals and I knew you’d come back silly and hungry. Fire does that to you.” she added, affectionately.
But something she’d said slightly dampened your silly mood.
“Proposals? Ale, this isn’t a business decision….”
“No, No, I know but… Mi Amor there is so much to plan. Look…” she started to click through her presentations, shuffling next to you on the couch,
“I have plotted both of our periods so we know when we're…you know… good to go, this is a list of donation services we could use, and look, this page is about all the different reproductive clinics in our area, and these are the clinics in England near your mamas, I know you get weird about Spanish hospitals…
I have your schedule here and you’re booked up for the next 12 months but i’ve highlighted in red what Mario could do without you, maybe we should get that apprentice you’ve been considering, they could help him....and this is my schedule, obviously I’ll miss a large portion of a year, maybe 18 months, but If we decide i’ll carry then it would be best if I was inseminated in June because then it would coincide with summer breaks and my return could be the following year…”
You tried your best to not be overwhelmed by the information you were presented with, lists, bullet points, pie charts, google reviews, there was even a page dedicated to car seats. But it all got the better of you…
“Ale, Ale, Ale,” you interrupted her rambling about the best fertility doctors in Catalonia… “stop.”
She looked at you, wide eyed, cheeks slightly flushed and hand still raised with the remote to the projector. “Si?”
“Ale. Do you want a baby with me?” you asked, simply.
“Que? Of course I do!” she looked affronted at being asked the question.
“Okay, good. Me too.” You'd pressed a quick kiss to her lips at that, a small win.
“Do you want the donor to be a stranger or someone we know?”
Her response came quickly, somewhat shyly… “a stranger. I don't want anyone else involved, this is our baby.”
“Good. I agree.” another quick kiss.
“And you do want to carry that baby or do you want me to?” That was a bigger question, and she hesitated.
“Amor, it is not that simp…”
“It is that simple. What do you want?”
“I honestly don’t…” you knew your wife. and you knew what her heart wanted, she just didn’t want to admit it. She would perceive it as selfish. Which you knew it wasn't.
“Ok, I’ll go then. Ale. Can I carry our baby, please?” you’d interrupted, as she looked at you with her mouth gaping open, you choose to continue to give her a moment to process,
“You have a time-limited career, Ale. I don’t want you to miss any of it. No more than you've already had to. Not for something that I can provide. The outdoors will always be there for me, I’ll be walking around til I’m 99.” she still sits still next to you, eyes giving nothing away, “
That's the practical. And on the less practical side... Ale. I want this. I want to do the most natural thing a woman can do, what type of explorer am I if I don’t explore this! And… I want to have your baby growing inside me. I want to feel baby Putellas kick me in the night, I want to make you go for ice cream for me at 4 am, I want to hold your hand while I'm in labour, and I know how supportive you’ll be I just… I want that…” you’d finished, you don’t need a slideshow to make a convincing argument.
Her eyes became glossy now, “You’d do that for me?” she croaked out, voice betraying her…
“No” you replied, “I’d do that for us.”
And that's when your weepy wife broke down in tears, throwing herself into your chest as she cried tears of joy.
“Amor, I really really want that too… I do. I want to see you pregnant with mi bebe, I want to look after you, after you both, to do it all… I just… I do not want you to feel like you have to, because of my job. I can take time, I can. But now you say that you want to... i just… thank you, gracias, gracias...”
“Listen. You do not need to be thankful. Ever. Ok? This is our family. Si?” she nodded and pulled herself from your embrace, but not moving very far, “Now. We’re going to eat these lovely picky bits you’ve made us,” you ignored the pinch to your side with a laugh,
“and I’m going to drink 2 bottles of wine while I still can... and we’re going to go through your slideshow, and then we’re going to try to make this baby…”
“Amor, I don’t think we’ll be able to tonight, it’s late, I will ring as soon as they open and make us appointments first thing though… Oh.” she blushed at your arched eyebrow as she realised what you meant, before she shook it off and pulled you to straddle her lap.
Your wife was easier to turn on than a light switch, and an eyebrow raise was often all she needed, even if her eyes were still puffy from crying.
“I think that sounds like a fantastic plan, Amor.” her large hands reached around your back and moved to settle on your bum, stroking the skin at your waist as she went, sending shivers up your spine as you leaned in to connect your lips,
“One problem though” she whispered, and you felt her breath on your mouth as you moved to kiss her,
“I think your plan may be backwards. Baby making first.”
Your eyes shot open as instead of the feeling of warm, pillowy lips you expected to be met with, you were suddenly mid air, your amazonian wife standing, your legs automatically wrapping around her as you squealed and she walked you towards the stairs.
“Ale, Mi Vino!” and after a quick detour to the kitchen, with you still in her arms, now armed with a bottle of red…
Alexia really had done a fantastic job with her research.
God, you loved your perfectionist wife.
You’d attended the top-rated fertility clinic in Barcelona not two days later.
The cosy office-like building shocked you.
“What did you expect, Amor?” your wife had laughed at you as you started at some goldfish floating happily in the large fish-take in the waiting room. “I don’t know… more… sterile… more, masked doctors?” you’d shrugged in return, though she should have been used to your fear of foreign hospitals, that didn’t stop her eye roll as she concentrated her attention back into the booklet she had been pouring over.
You felt okay here though.
It felt more like a teachers office than a medical waiting area.
So you watched the goldfish quite contentedly, floating around without a care in the world. Alexia's hand firmly on your thigh as she read the 1000th piece of literature she’d found in the last week. Seemingly deciding to start preparing for your family the same way she would the champions league final.
“It’ll be fine, Amor.” your wife reassured, looking up at you, squeezing your thigh gently, eyes unable to hide their excited glint.
Dr Garcia was a kind woman. Younger than you expected. But with wise eyes and soft hands.
... Maybe you wouldn’t mention the hands thing to your wife.. Who looked stressed to death in her little stool next to where you lay in the reclining chair. Gripping your hand tightly.
Dr Garcia pulled your top back down after wiping up the cool gel on your stomach. Your stomach still felt sticky and you hated the way your shirt clung to the remnants of the substance.
“Venir, let’s sit where it’s more comfortable.” she’d gestured you both over to the other side of her modern office, a couple of couches and a coffee table, the type of environment that was versatile, good for sharing good news, delivering bad, and everything in between.
As you sank into the leather sofa, you laughed to yourself, yeah, this was definitely not the NHS.
You needed to ask your wife how much this was costing.
“So, señoras. Firstly, don’t look so worried…” she immediately took the tension out of the room with a gentle smile, and you felt your wife deflate next to you, hand easily slipping into yours and pulling it onto her lap.
“Mrs Putellas, everything looks fantastic. Really. You’re fit, young, honestly, absolutely no issues with your reproductive organs that I can see. You reported you have regular periods?” she asked you, directly, to which you nod and she notes that down, “I’ll send these bloods off but with your lifestyle and condition, I have no problems continuing with you being the carrier for this embryo.”
You’d noticed that she never said baby, maybe it was a medical thing, to detach yourself when things could go wrong. Everything was ‘embryo’, ‘egg’ and ‘donor fluid’.
“So… now we have that cleared up…” she took out some pamphlets, which you swore you’d already seen in Alexia's glove box this morning, “how would you two like to progress?”
She must have seen your confused face as she nodded at you to speak.
“Well is it not just… like a turkey baster situation?”
“Amor!” Alexia hissed at you, growing red at your turn of phrase. But Dr Garcia laughed her easy laugh, “Don’t worry Mrs Putellas I’ve heard it all before.” she turned her attention to you, “It can be. If that's what you like. I notice you have both indicated that you want an anonymous donor, we can sort that no problem. What you’re referring to is a Doctor Assisted Insemination. And absolutely we can do that.” you’d nodded, you’d read about that.
“The other opinion you have is IVF. Now usually I wouldn't recommend it. Mrs Putellas your eggs are viable and you shouldn’t have issues in becoming pregnant through insemination. The reason I mention it is because it is often a choice taken by same-sex couples.”
You looked over at your wife, and she had a look on her face that you recognised, a longing look, the same look she’d get at the beginning of your relationship when you would tell her you were set to leave again.
“Why do they choose that?” you’d asked, because you were pretty sure your wife already knew the answer and you wanted to be clued up.
“Because we are able to take the eggs from one partner, fertilize them here in a lab, and then transfer them to your womb to impregnate you.”
Now, you had never thought about having kids until you met your wife. And you were somewhat of a luddite, spending most of your time in nature, you could be accused of not keeping up to date with current affairs.
You knew science was amazing, you had seen reports back at home about people's journeys with IVF and the amount it cost.
But you didn’t know you could carry your wife's baby.
You felt it happen. Like you would a new challenge in the wild. That suddenly, your world tilted and this was about to become your focus. Your obsession. This is what you wanted.
“I want that one.” you’d stated, firmly. Looking directly at Dr Garcia as though willing her to tell you there was a barrier, even if she was the one to tell you this even existed in the first place.
When she simply smiled and nodded at you, you turned to your wife.
“Ale, I want to do that one. I can have your baby Alexia. Yours. Can we do that one?”
She had that lovesick look in her eyes, like you were saying everything right. But she was always more practical than you, and she turned to the Doctor.
“Dr Garcia, doesn’t that have more side effects for the person who is carrying?”
You knew it did, or else she wouldn’t have asked, and you promise, you did listen as the Dr explained the injections, the side effects, the risks.
But you didn’t care.
You could do this.
You could carry Alexia's baby.
“... the other thing to consider is the cost. IVF can be very expensive.” that caused you to pause. You had always had a weird relationship with money. Alexia was rich. No two ways about it. You did very well, especially since you were thrown into semi-fame after your TV appearance. But it paled in comparison to your wife's earnings.
You were married, you knew the money you had was shared with your wife. But you would never spend what you deemed as her money. She hated it. And it had caused more than one argument between the two of you.
“That isn’t a problem.” she assured, shutting the Doctor down before you could ask more. You let it go this time. Dr Garcia had a fantastic ability to read a room and took a moment's leave to sort something out at reception, an obvious ploy to give you a moment alone.
As soon as the door clicked closed behind her you turned to Alexia, trying to hide the desperate look on your face. “Ale, any baby that we have will be our baby. But I want to carry your egg. I want a mini you. A baby that is both of us.”
She took your face in her large hands, and pressed a kiss to your lips, “Amor… I want that so much.” there was a but coming, “but… there are risks. Risks for you. Not just physical but... mental. You are my priority. You know that, right?”, she was being deadly serious.
She knew you. And she knew that you had a habit of just ignoring problems. You respected mental health in others. You were aware. But she knew you didn't think it was ever anything that would affect you.
You nodded, your foreheads bumping at your close contact, “I do but Ale, I can do this. I really really want us to do this. Would it be possible with the season? They have to harvest your eggs don't they?” she scoffed at that, she’d made it abundantly clear over the last few days that she wouldn’t be letting football get in the way of your family.
And you’d clearly been listening more than she’d thought.
“That's not a problem, Amor. I would just have to tell the physio I was taking hormone injections so I don't get pulled up on a drug test,” she’d let a smile tease her lips, “... Are we really doing this?” she had a giddy smile and you could feel the excitement coursing through her veins.
If you’d met when you were teenagers, all angsty and moody.
You’re fairly certain you would have hated her.
She was one of those girls who was perfect. Did anything they put their mind to seemingly without effort. Would get an A on the pop quiz about a brand new subject. Just good at everything she did.
If Alexia couldn’t carry on being a footballer, she should be a professional egg farm.
Dr Garcia had told her so.
Ok so, no.
That’s maybe not what she’d said exactly, but that’s what you’d heard. And the way your goody-two-shoes wife practically peacocked out of Dr Garcia's office, that’s what she’d heard too.
Obviously, it's a good thing you met your wife after you’d shedded your judgey teenager hormones because as soon as you met you saw her as the beautiful, hardworking, relentless, strong woman that she was.
She’d done the daily injections like in the same manner a drill sergeant would. She’d googled all the right foods to eat and exercises to do. She was wonder woman, and you loved her.
Which is why you indulged her preening over her apparently perfect and numerous eggs which had been successfully harvested.
“Did you hear that bebe? An abnormally large harvest she’d called it? Did you hear?”
“I heard Amor. I am very proud of your egg production.”
Alexia had completely missed your teasing sarcasm, as she often did, and blushed with the compliment.
“I’m proud of myself too.” she’d whispered into your knuckles as she brought them to her lips to drop a kiss there as she drove home.
Idiot.
It was your turn now, you had started to take hormone injections which would prepare your womb. And after you got the call from Dr Garcia to confirm that you had a large number of viable embryos, it was go time.
The insemination was quick, in and out the clinic within 15 minutes, slightly painful but mostly just unpleasant; “Just like if a man made you pregnant, Amor!” Ale had teased.
You wouldn’t know anything for a few weeks, and everything continued as normal. You attended Ales games, you worked day trips with Mario. But you couldn't help it that you found yourself cradling your stomach at times, wondering what was going on in there.
That question was answered just under two weeks later. When you woke up to a familiar, dull tugging behind your navel.
And your stomach dropped with disappointment.
When a trip to the bathroom confirmed your suspicions that you had started your period, you blamed your hormone injections for the tightness you felt in your throat.
You tried to ease yourself back into bed without disrupting your wife.
You did, you wanted her to have a restful night's sleep without feeling the disappointment you did, but she had a sixth sense and rolled into you as you lay down.
“Porque estas despierta mi amor?” she mumbled sleepily, before her sleep-addled brain caught up “espera, ¿estás bien cariño?” as she sat up, moving you into her arms.
“I’m okay Ale.” you muttered into the darkness of your bedroom,
“I just got my period.”
You felt her deflate underneath you, disappointment palpable, even if you couldn't see her face.
“That's okay, Amor. It’s okay.” her hands creating soothing circled on your bare arms.
“Dr Garcia said it is early, and it could take a few attempts. It's okay, Mi Amor. Wait here… I will get you some pills for your cramp…”
You knew she was right.
But it didn’t help to quell the suffocating disappointment you felt.
Weeks passed and you took more hormone injections, gels, and tablets.
They interrupted your menstrual rhythm and, in turn, put your hormones on a roller coaster ride.
Alexia was there every step of the way. Injecting your stomach when you couldn’t face it. Always leaving a kiss in the wake of the needle mark. Calling out of training when needed, thinking about what you’d need before you even knew yourself. Always with whispered plans for the future pressed into your skin.
You felt the excitement bubble in your stomach as you imagined her as a Mami. She would be such a good Mami. Which you told her, regularly, to which her eyes would shine as she looked at you as though you placed the stars in the sky and replied ‘really amor? Do you think so?’ with childlike wonder. Like she didn't believe you could think so highly of her.
The thing about being on hormone replacement and menstrual suppressants for months means that your body will naturally change.
Your body was getting ready to have a baby, you had stopped some of your more strenuous work with Mario, which has assisted in areas that used to be muscle, softening into soft curves and rounded edges.
Your thighs had softened, stomach had curved slightly, and your breasts swelled so much you hadn’t worn a wired bra in weeks.
You weren’t a vain woman. Not at all. But you have had a very active life. Your body wasn’t a source of pride for you, it was a tool that you needed to climb that peak, wade in that river, and cross that desert.
You knew your body would change, it was changing to suit its new requirements, you understood that, it didn’t take you by surprise.
What did take you by surprise, however, was Alexia's reaction to it.
Especially after she returned from 2 weeks with the Spanish National Team, video calls being the only contact you’d had in that time. And, you suppose, you had changed a lot in that time.
You found her hanging around in the bedroom when usually she would be catching up with a game in the living room, finding reasons to be in the bathroom when you went to shower, on one particularly obvious occasion, you caught her laying on your favorite sleep shirt and after watching you for 10 minutes looking for it, finally interrupting you by whining it was bedtime and to just sleep topless.
When you relented and snuggled into her embrace, Alexias hands settling on your hips, which had become her new favorite spot, you felt the fabric beneath her back.
“Ale, it’s here!” you’d cheered, trying to pull it from under her body with great difficulty. “Oh. Oh yes, there it is.” she yielded, grumpy look on her face which you couldn’t help but question.
“What's going on Putellas?” you’d asked with an arched eyebrow. “You’ve been being weird for days.”
“I have not!” she’d blushed beet red.
That was the thing, you knew your wife was ogling you, to be honest you were used to it.
There wasn’t a subtle bone in her body.
And you had a very active sex life, something that hadn’t diminished at all in your years together.
What was new was that every time you caught her looking, her eyes darted away, as though she’d been caught doing something illegal.
“You have, Mi Amor. You’ve been staring at me” you pressed, “Oh qué, ¿entonces ya no puedo mirar a mi esposa?” she responded in rapid spanish, which she often did when she was defensive.
“That's what is weird about it! Of course you can! Why are you looking at me like you shouldn’t be?”
Her face at this point was an impressive shade of lobster, and she covered it with her hands and groaned into them “Amooooor, bastante.”
“If you don’t tell me then I’m putting my shirt on.” you threatened, teasingly, moving your arms up to put on your shirt, which was quickly plucked out of your fingers and thrown across the room.
“no quiero que pienses que soy un asqueroso.” she’d mumbled, eyes down into her own chest.
You took a moment to translate her words, and confirmed to yourself that your wife was ridiculous.
“Ale, look at me please…Ale.” She looked up, firmly keeping her eyes on yours, not letting them drop to your bare chest which, in her defence, must have been difficult because you were sitting on your haunches, slightly raised above her.
“Alexia Putellas I could never, in my whole life, think you were a creep.” you’d assured her, to which she’d nodded, but still looked so adorably unsure, bottom lip pulled into her mouth as she chewed.
You knew your wife enough to know she could be prudish at times, she wouldn’t express herself about what you suspected was going on.
“My body has changed, Ale. I have noticed. You are my wife. Of course you can notice. You can look, baby. I am yours to look at.”
“I don’t want to… you know… make you feel objectified or anything…” she’d mumbled, eyes still stuck firmly on yours.
“Pero?” you’d prompted
“...pero… eres tan sexy”
The compliment made you preen, and you grasped her hands in yours and pressed a soft kiss to her lips.
You deepened it, your tongue seeking permission as you felt the vibration of her groan through your connected lips.
“... so I gather that you don’t think it makes me a creepy kinky weirdo that I'm insanely turned on by you right now? Like, I was thinking about your thighs today and Mapi hit me in the face with a ball.” she confirmed, as you pulled away from your kiss, leaving her breathless.
“No. No I do not. It makes me feel sexy and wanted.”
“Bien.” she moved in to take control of the kiss this time, the confident version of your wife returning. “Because you are sexy”... a kiss pressed to your lips…”and wanted”.
As your lips connected again you raised your joint hands and guided hers to cup your swollen, bare breasts.
Nipples erect from the chill of the room, you felt the heat from her palms spread through your whole body, settling into your core. “Just be careful Ale, they’re more…tender… more sensitive than you're used to” you practically purred into her mouth, her ministrations already sending a current directly between your legs.
“Oh dios mio” your ridiculous wife groaned as she carefully massaged her two new favourite things before eagerly dipping her mouth to capture one of your perked nipples.
“Fuck.” You groaned as your hand automatically tangled in her blonde locks.
Your core throbbed harder as her warm mouth consumed your sensitive flesh, gently tracing her tongue over your breast, before pulling away.
She used her stupid, athlete strength to move you onto your back gently and sat back onto your thighs.
There was no shame this time, as she practically consumed your body with her eyes.
You honestly felt like the most beautiful woman in the world.
“See Ale. You can look.” You husked a little shakily now.
“Oh Amor, voy a hacer más que mirar.” She practically growled, wolfish grin on her face, cocky Alexia back in full force.
And god.
She did more than look.
Your breath hitched as her large hand began to snake down your body, gliding her fingers along your soft skin, leaving goosebumps in her path.
She stopped just below your belly button before giving you another gentle kiss.
Then her fingers dipped lower.
“Oh,” Her cocky smile widened when she felt just how quickly your body had reacted to her. “Already?”
Your eyes only slightly roll at her cockyness. “Yeah, well. Have you seen you– oh, my god!”
Your words are caught in your throat as your wife easily presses one large finger inside of you.
Her own groan drowned out yours before she slid a second digit in.
She easily captures your mouth with her own, swallowing the whimper that escapes you. Her kisses are soft, just like the fingers inside you, there's no rush, no big show, just slow gentle thrust that makes you clench desperately around her.
She gives you another gentle kiss before she starts to shift her body down your own, peppering soft kisses down your chest, over your stomach, then along your thighs before she presses a kiss on your wet lips, and slowly dips her tongue, parting you and capturing your swollen bud between her lips.
You never did manage to put your sleep shirt on that night.
summary: you had a bad day at work and all you want is your girlfriend. sadly, she already has other plans.
a/n: this is just a silly little thing i wrote today. i hope you like it! :)
you’d had a really, really long day at work today. it had just been one of those days where everything went wrong. your boss had kept bothering you about future deadlines, one of your colleagues had tried covering up a mistake that had then taken hours to fix, and you had forgotten to pack your lunch which meant you’d had to settle for the boring, not very good cafeteria food.
all you’d wanted to do all day was go home and cuddle up on the couch with your girlfriend’s arms around you and sleep. preferably, the whole weekend.
sadly, your girlfriend was a very successful footballer and had, as it just so happened, an evening game today of all days. instead of coming home to alexia already cooking something up in the kitchen, an empty house greeted you.
it was awful. there was no kisses hello, no teasing about alexia’s ‘kiss the chef’-apron she always wore just to make you laugh, no ranting about your respective work, no funny stories about what happened in training, no alexia.
any other day you wouldn’t have cared all that much, but today you just needed your girlfriend.
as soon as you’d gotten home, you’d changed into one of alexia’s favourite hoodies and one of her old barça sweatpants and dropped onto your living room couch. you hadn’t really moved since then except for one reluctant trip to the kitchen to heat up the food from yesterday.
other than that, nothing. you were comfortably warm under your blanket, you were surrounded by your girlfriend’s scent, and your comfort series was on tv. small victories, but they did brighten your mood somewhat.
by the time you heard alexia’s keys in the door, you were almost back to your usual self. almost being the key word here. on any other day, you’d have waited for her on the couch. this time, you didn’t have the patience.
you quickly pushed the blanket off and got up, basically skipping toward the door with the biggest smile on your face. it was still half open, alexia was barely inside yet, when you launched yourself at your girlfriend.
“uff!” alexia stumbled back, obviously not expecting to be tackled as soon as she stepped inside. her bag slid off her shoulder and hit the floor with a dull thud.
you didn’t care. you wrapped your arms around her middle and buried your face into her neck with a dramatic sigh.
for a moment, alexia stood there. then she laughed. a warm, surprised laugh that vibrated through her chest and against your cheek.
“hello to you too, amor.”, she chuckled. her arms came around you, holding you close, and she pressed a soft kiss against the side of your head. you hummed, your only reply, and somehow managed to burrow even further into her.
everything felt better immediately. the tension after your awful, stressful day melted away and only left contentment. her familiar scent filling your lungs - her hoodie just couldn’t do the real thing justice -, her warmth enveloping you, the sound of her heartbeat were the cure to everything.
“missed you.”, you mumbled into her neck. you hadn’t wanted to say it, didn’t want to sound desperate, but the words slipped out before you could stop them.
her arms only tightened around you, rubbing soothingly up and down your back. you felt her smile against your hair before she pressed another kiss to your temple.
“i missed you, too.”
your heart did what it usually did when alexia said something sweet. the complete honesty and tenderness of her voice only amplified it. you loved it. you loved her and how she never made you feel stupid for being unnecessarily clingy.
some people would probably have teased you by now. alexia never did. if anything, she seemed to enjoy it. immensely. she never acted inconvenienced when you sought her out after a bad day. never minded it when you followed her around the house like a lost puppy. never made you feel as though you were asking for too much. instead, she welcomed it, with open arms and a warm smile.
“bad day at work, huh?”, alexia asked quietly after a moment.
you nodded against her shoulder. “mhm. work sucks.”
alexia chuckled lightly. “want to talk about it?”
you shook your head no. you’d spent the entire day thinking about work, talking about work, fixing work. the last thing you wanted to do now was relive it. you just wanted to stay here forever. at home with your favourite person, doing absolutely nothing.
if it were up to you, you would have stayed like this forever, but eventually alexia leaned back. you did too, albeit reluctantly. though you didn’t let go, your hands still lightly gripped onto your girlfriend’s jacket.
your eyes traced the outline of the barça crest stitched into the fabric above her heart. right, the game. you looked up into her face with a lazy, but proud smile. her eyes were already on you. she gazed at you with that warm, unguarded look in her eyes.
alexia silently leaned forward, eyes dropping to your lips. you met her halfway, and your lips connected in a soft kiss. the kind of kiss that always made your day better, that felt less like ‘hello’ and more like a welcome home.
some part of you still couldn’t quite believe that you got to do this. that you got to kiss alexia whenever you wanted. even after 3 years together. you truly were the luckiest woman alive.
when she pulled away, you quickly chased her for a second one. alexia laughed quietly against your lips, stealing just one more peck, her forehead resting against yours. you looked at her with half-lidded eyes while your hands toyed absent-mindedly with the hem of her jacket, teasingly slipping your fingers underneath it.
“you won.”, you murmured.
a proud smile immediately tugged at the corners of her mouth, clearly remembering the thrashing they gave whatever team they played against at the johan cruyff today. “we did.”
“congrats.”, you hummed, leaning forward to peck her lips once again. you just couldn’t help yourself. her kisses were addictive. “i saw your goal. you played very well.”
even though you couldn’t be there in person this time, you still made a point to watch it from home. before alexia, you’d have never watched a single game, but ever since you’d met her, you had kind of become invested. at least, when it came to barça.
alexia’s expression melted at your words. her arms tightened around you, moving you even closer toward her. you ended up being so close, there wouldn’t even fit a single sheet of paper between you.
“thank you.”, alexia said almost shyly. the look on her face made you smile. she was ridiculous, really. this woman had won everything there is to win, had captained barcelona for years, and still got incredibly shy when someone complimented her.
you couldn’t resist. your hand slipped fully underneath her jacket and shirt and lightly tickled her lower belly.
“ay, no!” alexia immediately jerked away, letting out an indignant noise, which, naturally, just made you laugh and do it again.
“amooor.”, she complained and grabbed your wrist to stop the onslaught of tickles. her nose scrunched up as she tried - and failed - to look annoyed.
you gave her the most innocent smile you could. alexia just shook her head, though the smile threatening to break through gave her away.
she looked at the space between you, and her brows furrowed. it didn’t take her long, just a few seconds, before she pulled you closer again by your waist.
her left hand came up and cupped your cheek. you immediately leaned into it like it was the most natural thing in the world. her thumb brushed lightly over your skin.
“you know”, she murmured, her voice suddenly softer, quieter. it carried a hint of an apologetic tone, which you didn’t like at all.
“i really love this. i really love you even though you’re impossible sometimes.” at that, alexia cheekily poked you in the stomach. not hard, simply to prove a point. “and there’s nothing i’d rather do right now than stay here with you…”
you leaned back slightly, just enough to see her properly. your hands gripped onto alexia’s, the one that rested on your hip, loosely holding onto her. whatever she was going to say next, you knew you wouldn’t like at all.
“but i still need to go shopping. i just came home because i forgot my wallet.”
you groaned immediately, dramatic and loud, dropping your head onto her shoulder. at the same time, you felt a little guilty too, because you could have easily gone, but hadn’t even thought about it.
“no.” your arms wrapped tightly around her waist, foolishly hoping that would be enough to make her stay. as if she couldn’t easily get out of your grip, your strength was no match to hers. you held on anyway, stubborn as you were, like it made a difference.
“i have to.” alexia sounded very apologetic, incredibly sorry. it almost made it impossible to stay mad at her.
“why?” you looked up at her with a pout. your voice had come out incredibly whiny, even to your own ears, but you didn’t care. this was a tragic turn of events. your day had suddenly turned awful again.
“you know why.”, alexia replied carefully. “we have no food. and there are fewer people at night so i didn’t go this morning. ”
you knew, indeed. as much as she loved culers and every other genuine football fan, your girlfriend could hardly do anything in peace when she was out in public. she always had to be on, aware, careful with every move and word. you knew how exhausting that could be for her.
sometimes, she just wanted to be herself, to be invisible. so, she’d found ways around it. like going grocery shopping only after dark when you didn’t have time to do it or, like today apparently, forgot.
your grip on her waist loosened slightly, the complaint on your tongue evaporating into thin air before it could fully form.
“right.”, you murmured instead.
alexia studied your face for a second, reading your emotions in a way only your girlfriend could. then her eyes softened, her hand brushed a fly-away hair out of your face.
“i won’t be long.”, she reassured you with a smile. “you just go and make yourself comfortable on the couch and i’ll be back before you know it.”
you made a small, non-committal sound in response because technically you understood what she meant. it made sense for her to suggest you stay at home. you’d be be more at ease here than you would be in a supermarket.
you glanced over your shoulder. at the living room, the couch, the running tv. the silence, the emptiness. it suddenly felt even less appealing than it had before alexia came home.
your gaze drifted back to her. your girlfriend. your amazing girlfriend who held you in her arms, who looked warm and cozy, who looked at you with those beautiful, hazel eyes. the decision was incredibly easy. no one in their right mind would choose an empty house over the love of their life.
“i’m coming with you.”, you finally said. alexia’s eyebrows lifted slightly. she looked ready to argue, to tell you it was unnecessary, to gently push you toward the living room and insist she would be quick.
you didn’t give her the chance. your mind was made up. you looked down at your outfit and decided that yes, this would do for a late night trip to the market. you then pulled away from your girlfriend and put on your shoes.
alexia watched you for a second, debating whether to accept your decision or try and talk you out of it. you hated grocery shopping, which was why she often took over that part, but you hated it even more when you had a bad day. her mouth opened slightly, then closed again. she sighed, and tried again.
“amor.”, she started. “you’ll be bored.”
you straightened up, looking at her properly. she hadn’t moved from her spot, just watched you get ready sceptically. you narrowed your eyes. her skepticism was largely unwarranted. it was just a quick trip, no more than an hour.
“i won’t.”, you stated with full confidence, proceeding to walk toward the living room to grab your phone.
“yes, you will.”, she shouted after you. “and then you’ll complain about it.”
“watch me.”, you threw over your shoulder.
-
you hated it here. it had only been five minutes, but you’d decided this was the worst supermarket you’d ever seen in your life. the lights were unnecessarily bright and white, it was much too cold - you felt like you were in a literal freezer -, and the products didn’t even look that great.
to make matters even worse, there was absolutely nothing to do. nothing. this was the most boring place ever. you couldn’t even people-watch because there was no one here. just you, alexia and the cashier sitting at the check out.
unfortunately, alexia seemed perfectly content. she was pushing the cart through the aisles while you followed her. every now and then, she’d stop and grab something from the shelves you apparently needed. bananas, apples, yogurt, milk - it was all on the list she had on her phone.
meanwhile, you were silently suffering. never in a million years would you admit to alexia she was right. whenever she turned around to ask you something, you put on a smile, pretending that nothing was the matter. you weren’t all that successful though, every one of her questions was accompanied by an amused grin that just got bigger and bigger as time went on.
your eyes were fixed on the ground, counting the black tiles while trying not to step on the white ones. you didn’t immediately notice when alexia suddenly stopped and thus almost ran into her.
“careful.”, alexia laughed, glancing over her shoulder to make sure you were okay.
“sorry.”, you muttered and looked over her shoulder at the large variety of cheese in front of you. your eyes moved from one package to the next. that amount of different kinds of cheese surely was excessive even for a supermarket.
“which one do you want?”, alexia asked.
you turned your head toward her, you almost glared at her. she was really drinking this up, her gleeful expression gave her away immediately. she couldn’t hide it. you huffed and turned away, refusing to look at her any longer.
“i don’t like cheese.”, you finally settled on.
alexia simply laughed at your response, it echoed unnaturally loud in the empty aisle, and threw a few packages into the cart before checking her list again. you almost whined when you saw how long it still was. this was honest to god torture.
after a while, minutes that felt like hours, you’d gone back from constantly glaring at alexia to being clingy again. you had tried to ignore her and show her how much you didn’t want to be here (even though it was your own fault), but then you’d remembered how awesome her hugs were.
since then, you’d been attached to her in some way. you’d looped your arm through hers and leaned your head on her shoulder while she’d pushed the cart along.
you’d insisted you needed to hold her hand a few times, because you were cold - she’d had to steer the cart with one arm since she could never say no to you.
whenever alexia was looking at something, you slipped your arms around her waist and burrowed your face into the back of her neck, leaving little kisses that distracted her from everything else.
she didn’t once complain about it. not about the clinginess, or that you were in public, or that you made shopping infinitely harder. if she had, you’d have stopped immediately.
alexia just chuckled at, but entertained your antics, and even leaned in for one or two kisses on the lips when you were in a darker corner.
“i told you you’d be bored.”, alexia finally said when you neared the register, her hand tightly holding onto yours.
you just shrugged and hummed in response, momentarily distracted by the bouquets of flowers near the exit. you hadn’t noticed them earlier, but they were very pretty. especially those white and pink tulips.
when you looked back at your girlfriend, her eyes were also on the flowers, having followed your line of sight.
“it wasn’t all that bad.”, you quietly admitted and squeezed her hand once.
alexia’s gaze fell on you again, a grin spreading across her face. “you know what, i’m not sure if i believe that.”, she chuckled, earning an eyeroll from you.
the check out was rather quick, you were the only two customers, after all, and the cashier didn’t seem all that interested in small talk.
you were just getting into the car, alexia was putting the last of the bags in the trunk, when your girlfriend suddenly gasped.
“oh no, i forgot something. i’ll be right back.”
confusion was written all over your face as you watched her disappear back inside the supermarket. you were pretty sure you had everything; she’d checked her list two times. you climbed into the passenger seat with a sigh, and pulled out your phone.
a minute passed. then two. then three. you were just beginning to wonder what on earth could possibly be taking so long when the driver’s side opened.
alexia slipped into the seat beside you, slightly out of breath from jogging across the parking lot. when she didn’t immediately start the car, you finally looked up from your scrolling.
your eyes widened in surprise. alexia was looking at you with a wide, expectant smile. in her hands, she held the exact same bouquet of tulips you’d been looking at just moments earlier.
your brain was malfunctioning; you were lost for words. you could just stare, dumb-founded, but with the biggest, most love-sick smile on your face. your heart was also making itself known by nearly beating out of your chest, so full of love was it.
“i saw you looking at them.”, alexia said, both shy and proud, and shrugged her shoulders. as though it wasn’t anything special.
well, maybe to your girlfriend it wasn’t. but to you it definitely was. it wasn’t the first time she’d got you flowers. far from it. over the years, alexia had shown up with bouquets more times than you could count.
sometimes after a bad day, sometimes after a big breakthrough at work, sometimes for no reason at all other than the fact that she’d walked past a flower stand and something had reminded her of you.
it was never really about the flowers themselves, but the way alexia paid attention. she remembered things other people forgot. she noticed things other people overlooked.
you hadn’t said a word about the tulips. you’d just looked at them for a few seconds while you stood at the register. still, alexia had apparently noticed. she noticed everything when it came to you.
alexia held the tulips out to you and you eagerly took them from her. “thank you.”, you murmured and leaned in for a kiss. and another one. and another one.
“i love you.”
“i love you, too.” alexia laughed softly against your lips, one hand finding its way to your thigh while the other cupped your cheek, deepening the kiss.
summary: barça had won the champions league for the third time. alexia should be at the party, celebrating with her team. instead, she's here with you, sitting on a rooftop high above bilbao.
~ 6.1k words
a/n: my first fic after months of not writing, yay! even though i'm not completely happy with how this turned out, i decided to post it anyway. i didn't proof-read so i hope there are no mistakes. feel free to tell me your thoughts!
after all that happened today, the craziness and chaos, after all the noise - at the game, on the bus, at the party - the quiet of your hotel room in bilbao felt almost strange.
you’d been sitting on the bed for a while, clad in a shirt too big for you - it had been alexia’s once - and some pyjama shorts. you still had your make-up on; you hadn’t yet found the energy to take it off.
you had no energy to do anything, really. everything hurt. your head, your throat from all the screaming, your arms from carrying luca around, your legs, your feet.
you’d ignored it all day, but then you’d left the party and all of it had caught up with you. now you just couldn’t get yourself to do much other than sit there and stare at your phone.
alexia had texted you a while ago, asking when you’d come back. eli had of course told the blonde that she’d taken luca off your hands. you hadn’t expected anything different from her.
you’d been rather surprised when the older woman had knocked on your hotel room door. you’d thought she was still with alexia - you would have been too, a third champions league title needed to be celebrated thoroughly, if luca hadn’t needed to go to bed.
but then eli had showed up at yours and informed you in no uncertain terms that she was taking luca for a sleepover in her room and that you were going back to the party.
the night was still young - “it is 10 p.m., hija. the party hasn’t even begun yet.” - and you were too. luca was taken care of, so what were you still doing here - “vamos!”. she’d been in and out with your son before you even realized, leaving a perplexed you behind.
that had been 15 minutes ago. alexia’s text had come in just 2 minutes after. you had replied with a quick ‘soon’, but had done nothing to get ready. you’d just needed a few more minutes to breathe, recharge.
someone knocked on your door. you sighed; your time was over, then. it must be alba, you guessed, sent by eli or alexia. the putellas family wasn’t exactly known for their patience. mentally, you already prepared for the lecture that was sure to come, and thought of a few excuses just in case.
who you did not expect when you opened the door, the possibility hadn’t even crossed your mind, was alexia.
sweet and happy, champions league winner, alexia. though she didn’t look too happy at the moment. across from you stood captain alexia - the front she usually reserved for the pitch, but put on when something didn’t go as she wanted.
as it so often did these last few weeks, months, years, your heart instantly beat a little faster at the sight of her. it felt familiar by now; it didn’t bother you anymore. enough time had passed, you’d made peace with it. that this, loving her in silence, would just be part of your life now.
you couldn’t even remember a time where you hadn’t loved alexia. from the moment you’d met her at 6 years old, she’d held a special place in your heart.
at first, it had been that uncomplicated kind of love only children were capable of. alexia was your best friend. she had simply decided that on a random tuesday at school when she’d noticed you sitting alone while everyone else played together.
her, the loud, stubborn girl who always seemed to know exactly what she wanted, who wasn’t afraid to speak her mind. and you, the shy, awkward girl who loved her books more than people, who had trouble making friends.
you still weren’t entirely sure what she’d seen in you that day. what made her come over and plop herself down next to you. according to alexia you’d looked lonely, and no one ever should be in her opinion.
you’d found her incredibly annoying in the beginning. admittedly, alexia didn’t leave the best first impression. stealing your sketch book and proceeding to run away with it hadn’t been exactly her best idea. not when you’d had to chase after her for 10 minutes before you finally got it back.
still, somehow, you were sort-of friends at the end of the day and alexia had kept finding you the following days until you eventually agreed that yes, you were best friends.
from then on, alexia was everywhere. she came to your class room during breaks - she was one class above you. she dragged you into games you had no interest in playing. she invited you to her home every other day - after that first time you realized just how close you lived to each other. she showed up at yours so often your parents eventually didn’t even ask anymore, just added a fourth plate to the dinner table.
alexia became a part of your life in such an effortless way. and despite your habit of complaining about her, despite rolling your eyes whenever she did something reckless or stupid, you adored her.
you adored how alexia made everything look so easy. how she seemed so cool and brave and kind. how she somehow made everything more fun. how she always made everyone feel included. and, though you’d never really told her, how she lived and breathed football.
alexia was obsessed. even at seven years old, there had never been any doubt about what she wanted to do with her life. football was all she talked about. football was all she thought about. football was all she wanted to do. and barça was her dream.
you’d spent countless afternoons sitting on the sidelines of parks and later training grounds with a book in your lap while alexia chased a ball around for hours. she never seemed to get tired of it. if anything, she only got worse as she got older.
apart from her family, you were her biggest supporter. from when you were young - six, seven years old - without a single clue about football. to when you were teenagers and young adults, when everything around you started to change.
your lives began to pull you in different directions, yet you still showed up every time. it shouldn’t have worked as well as it did, honestly. you followed two completely different paths. alexia was set on her way to become the best football player in the world. you, meanwhile, started pursuing acting.
many had been surprised by that decision. acting didn’t exactly fit well together with the shy girl that hated attention. you were surprised, too, the first time you stood on stage and the fear didn’t come.
it was different, you supposed, because it wasn’t really you. standing in front of a camera or on a stage as someone was different from standing in front of people as yourself. for a little while, you got to be someone else entirely. someone braver, louder, funnier, crueler. whoever the story needed them to be.
alexia had never doubted you. not once. when others questioned it, she simply shrugged and acted as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. of course you would become an actress. it was your dream, as football was hers, and it would come true.
maybe that unwavering support from both sides was why you never grew apart. it would have been easy to. on paper, there was no reason for your friendship to survive.
your schedules became ridiculous. alexia spent more and more time training, travelling, playing. you spent your days at auditions, acting classes, small productions.
there were periods where you barely saw each other. yet somehow, you always managed to make time for the other, in whatever form possible. sometimes it was rushed phone calls on her way home from training. sometimes it was a quick ‘good luck’ text before a game or an audition. sometimes it was sitting in silence on the couch because both of you were too exhausted to hold a proper conversation.
you made the effort despite the fact it would have been easier to quit. alexia was too important. even when you, at 19 years old, moved to la for better career opportunities, even when her name became bigger and bigger in women’s football; you stayed close.
alexia was still the first person you would call after an audition, after a rejection, or when you simply missed home. you were the first one she’d text after a big win, the one she’d face-time after a bad match.
there had never been a question of whether alexia would stay in your life. she just would. in the same way the sun would rise tomorrow, in the same way summer would eventually become autumn.
some things simply were, and alexia was one of them.
maybe that was why you’d never noticed how your feelings changed over the years. alexia was the constant in your life. she always gave you that warm feeling of home. she was the person you sought out first in a room, the one whose opinion mattered most, the one you wanted beside you for every important moment.
you’d loved her as a kid, as a teenager, as a young woman growing into adulthood. the love had always been there. so how could you have known that ‘i love you’ as ‘you’re my best friend’ had one day turned into ‘i love you’ as ‘i want to kiss you, i want to spend the rest of my life with you’.
there wasn’t one particular moment in which you knew. there was never a time you could point to and say here, that’s when it all changed.
you just looked at alexia one day and the thought popped into your head, almost unbidden. ‘wow, i’m ridiculously in love with this woman.’
that day had been years ago, when you were pregnant. maybe the pregnancy had been the catalyst and the fear of the unknown, the hormones had opened your eyes for the first time. made you look for the one thing that felt familiar.
-
you were nearing 5 months of pregnancy. you had moved back to barcelona, into a house not far from alexia’s, just a few weeks ago. it still didn’t feel quite yours yet, even though your things were already everywhere. it felt like a life in progress, like something you were still catching up to.
alexia had been a constant visitor. whenever she could - before training, after training, in between interviews - she came over to help you unpack, to keep you company, to try and make it feel more like home.
today she’d come straight from training, still in her tracksuit, freshly showered, and quickly made herself comfortable on your couch. apparently, there was a barça meneni match she just had to watch.
unfortunately for everyone involved, they were having a terrible game. you were on the other end of the couch, legs stretched out, with a book you hadn’t turned a page of in a while. you’d given up pretending to read about 10 minutes ago. it was far more entertaining to watch alexia slowly lose her mind instead.
she was fully invested in the match, it almost felt personal. every misplaced pass was met with a sharp inhale, every missed chance with a muttered complaint, every foul against barcelona had her loudly cursing at the tv. she kept shifting on the couch, her legs bouncing. it was very amusing, far better than your book.
your gaze was fixed on her face, on her frown deepening and deepening the longer time went on, when you suddenly felt something.
just a small shift low in your stomach. you were kind of familiar with it by now, how you could feel the baby move at certain times, but this felt different somehow. your eyes narrowed. you let go of the book and rested your hands on your bump, exactly where you’d felt it.
you were entirely tuned into every little movement now, so when it came again, you felt it clearly. it was unmistakable; a kick against your hands. immediately, your breath caught and your heart beat a little louder in your ears. the baby had really just kicked for the first time.
“ale.”, you said, whispered, automatically. you were almost too afraid to speak, afraid to spook him in any way. there came no response. one, because your voice had been incredibly low it was probably impossible to hear over the tv. and two, alexia was too absorbed in the game.
“ale.”, you tried again, this time louder. you quickly glanced up at her, a smile that spanned from ear to ear on your face.
“hm?”, she asked distractedly, not even once glancing in your direction. she’d heard you, but not the obvious urgency in your voice. your smile slowly turned into a frown the longer she ignored you. if she only knew what had just happened…football would be the last thing on her mind. it couldn’t possibly be this hard to get alexia’s attention, could it?
“alexia.”
it could, apparently. annoyingly. “just a second.”, she muttered immediately. again, not even a glance. you exhaled through your nose, half amused, half annoyed. of course. of course alexia chose this very moment to be unreachable. the worst moment possible, in your opinion. you sighed and sat up slightly.
“alexia putellas segura.”
that finally did it. alexia straightened, her head immediately snapped towards you. you never used her full name, so the fact that you did told her that it was probably better to pay attention.
“what?”, she asked. her gaze then flicked to your hands resting on your belly, to your face and that strange new look in your eyes, down, up. you had alexia’s undivided attention now, though not in the way you’d expected. her whole demeanour changed, her eyes suddenly filled with worry.
“is something wrong? are you okay? is the baby okay?” she was alert, sitting on the edge of the couch, ready to run, to do whatever you needed from her.
“no, no.”, you hurried to assure her, voice softening considerably. you smiled at her, hoping it would help soothe her worries. it did, a little. alexia seemed to relax a bit, but only minimally.
“come here.”, you said. you’d always found it easier to show someone than explain what you were feeling.
you reached for her hand before you could overthink it, guiding it to your stomach. confusion flickered across her face, but she let you move her without resistance, let you place her palm exactly where yours had been.
“what are you-”
alexia stopped suddenly. the words just…fell away. you knew why, had felt the kick at the same time she did. her entire body went still. her eyes dropped to your stomach, like the world had narrowed down to where she was touching you.
“oh.”, she whispered. her voice was so soft you barely heard it. she looked at you in complete awe, her eyes filled with wonder. you’d never seen her like that, that look on her face was completely new. her fingers pressed slightly harder against your skin, as if hoping, wanting, she could feel it again.
it worked. the little one seemed to feel all the attention on him, to know what you were waiting for. maybe he wanted to make himself known, or maybe he’d just decided he liked alexia’s attention specifically. whatever it was, you were glad he did. you wanted to see that look on alexia’s face forever, the love, the wonder. her eyes widened just a fraction, something soft and unguarded flashing across her face.
“oh.” alexia leaned closer, seemingly unconsciously. “that’s…” her voice was wavering. “that’s him.”
-
from then on, you’d carried it with you. it hadn’t been world-changing. it didn’t make you nervous. it made sense; it brought with it a certainty you hadn’t had before. it had been inevitable, in the end.
you’d simply laid in bed after alexia had left that evening, one hand resting on your stomach, and acknowledged the truth for the first time.
you were in love with your best friend.
the next day, life had continued. there had been doctor’s appointments, sleepless nights, football matches, interviews. the world didn’t stop turning just because of your sudden revelation.
as clear as it was that you were in love, it had also been instantly clear you’d never say anything. risking losing the most important person in your life for something as uncertain as hope seemed reckless.
so you’d made the choice to love alexia. to keep loving alexia. but to never ask for more from her. you already had her, after all. maybe not in the way your heart wanted, but you had her nonetheless.
she loved you, in her way. she loved your son as though he was her own. it was all you wanted, all you could ask for.
it would be okay. you could live with that. you learned how to live with it. some days were harder than others, sure. some days she smiled at you and the urge to just…lean forward and kiss her was so strong you had to look away.
today also turned out to be more difficult. you’d not really seen alexia for long so far and when you had, there had been so much else going on. this was the first time today you’d been alone with her and your heart, of course, made itself known. very inconvenient for you.
alexia looked good. black pants, barça shirt, sunglasses on top of her head, the gold medal around her neck…and the trophy in her arms?
“um, what are you doing here?”, you blurted out, confused beyond measure. you didn’t even greet her, the only question on your mind why she stood here in front of you when only hours ago her team became champions of europe. there were surely better places to be - the party, first and foremost. then your eyes flicked down to the trophy. “...and why do you have that?”
alexia followed your gaze and her eyes widened comically. a stunned ‘oh’ escaped from her lips. in a matter of seconds, alexia turned from the fierce capitana into the ale only few people got to see. shy, introverted, unsure, simply adorable with that sheepish look on her face.
“err…well.” alexia rubbed the back of her neck and let out a nervous giggle. your eyes immediately clocked the redness creeping up her neck, her cheeks were slowly turning pink. it was endearing to watch, but also very intriguing.
alexia cleared her throat. “i forgot…i…had it?”
a stunned laugh burst through your lips, much too loud for the quiet of the hotel. it startled the both of you, but you couldn’t help it. how could someone simply forget they were holding a trophy. and not a small one at that; this one was really hard to miss. though, alexia could, apparently. she had carried it through the streets of bilbao without realizing, after all.
alexia glared daggers at you. she was trying to intimidate you into silence, but that had never worked with you. you knew her too well, knew how much of a softie she was, to ever take that glare seriously.
“you’re mean.”, she huffed, a pout forming on her lips. “and to think i came here to check on you.”
your laughter died out instantly at her words. she’d tried to make it sound exasperated, like a joke, but the honesty, the earnestness, still shone through in her voice. “what?”, you spluttered. “why?”
alexia looked at you, then. really looked at you. from the oversized shirt hanging off one shoulder to your pyjama shorts full of little rainbows - they were a gift from luca; he had a matching pair - until her gaze landed on your face.
“i was worried. you didn’t come back and the venue isn’t really that far away. i wanted to make sure you were alright.”
your heart fluttered. stupid, stupid, traitorous heart. you had to actively force yourself not to (over-)react. otherwise you probably would have melted to the floor with the gooiest smile on your face. though, you failed to hide the smile. damn alexia always being so sweet and considerate.
“why didn’t you call? you didn’t have to leave and come all this way for me. you should be with the girls celebrating the win!”
alexia just shrugged her shoulders. as though the win suddenly wasn’t all that important anymore. it didn’t fit in your head. this was alexia. alexia, who had spent the entire season chasing after this trophy. it had been her biggest motivation after the injury setback.
“maybe i just needed an excuse to leave.”, alexia muttered, looking anywhere but you.
you just stared, in disbelief, eyes wide. you were lost for words. for over 20 years you’d been friends, you’d thought, surely, you knew her by now. turns out there was still much to learn about her. because this made no sense whatsoever.
“but why?”, you asked. really tried to understand, but it was impossible. alexia didn’t just leave a party like this one. usually so held back, those were the only times she really let loose and didn’t think about tomorrow or the next training session, the next match. she stayed until the end, often the last one to leave.
again, alexia shrugged. this woman. sometimes you’d just like to hit her over the head with a pan or something. she couldn’t make it easy just for once. no, it always had to be dragged out of her.
alexia looked down at the trophy in her hands. almost absent-mindedly, she brushed her thumb over the engraving. FC Barcelona. the club of her life.
she took a deep breath in, and smiled, small but there. her eyes met yours once again, shining with undeniable affection.
“run away with me.”
for a moment, you forgot how to breathe. the words hit you like a freight train. you hadn’t heard them in so long, too long almost. you hadn’t expected alexia to use them now, of all times.
it made sense, though. this phrase had been yours for as long as you could remember.
the first time when you were 9 and she was 10, at her birthday party when everything had become too loud, too much for you. when you were 15 and crying at school because your boyfriend had broken up with you. when alexia was 18 and her whole life had just fallen apart. when you were 23 and staring at the positive pregnancy test on the counter.
it was your secret language; it meant everything you couldn’t say, everything you needed to hear, in the moment. don’t worry, i’m here. you’re not alone. everything sucks, but i’m with you.
or now, as alexia stood in front of you, looking at you with the same exact expression she always had when she said it; i can’t explain, but will you stay anyway.
of course you would. you always did. there had never been a time when your answer hadn't been yes. you huffed a laugh and shook your head. alexia really could get you to do anything.
“where?”
the relief on her face was instant. a smile spread across her lips, bright enough to rival the gold medal hanging around her neck. she looked so very happy for something so small, so normal. it was unfair. completely unfair. how were you meant to function when she looked at you like that.
“i don’t know.”, alexia laughed and shrugged her shoulders - it seemed to be the only thing she was capable of doing. “somewhere.”
you stared at her, eyebrows raised, but with a smile that mirrored hers. “somewhere?” alexia nodded. “somewhere.”
a laugh escaped you, quiet and disbelieving. today were really a lot of firsts in your relationship. alexia without a plan was unheard of. you knew her as a control freak. normally, she had to know everything to the smallest detail.
“okay.”, you said.
-
somehow, you had ended up on the rooftop. how alexia managed to get access, you’d never know. she refused to tell you. the perks of being a celebrity, probably. in hindsight, you should really have seen it coming. alexia had always liked being above everything else, observing from a distance.
you sat on the edge, legs dangling over the side, the city of bilbao spread out beneath you. noise faintly travelled up from the streets. honking cars, music streaming out of nearby bars, people talking, shouting, bellowing. the champions league trophy sat between you on the ground, forgotten for now.
neither of you talked. it was an unofficial rule you’d established early on for these moments - talk if you needed it, don’t if you didn’t want to. you couldn’t think of anything to say, and alexia seemed to be lost in her head for now.
it was okay, though. every now and then alexia’s shoulder would brush yours, and that was enough. her choosing to be here with you, you choosing to be here with her, said more than words ever could.
you looked out over the city, the darkening sky, and breathed it all in. for the first time in a long time, there was nowhere else you needed to be. there was no luca, no emergency, no work that needed your attention. it felt simply wonderful.
movement out of the corner of your eye made you turn your head to alexia. she was fidgeting with her medal again, for what was probably the tenth time. a nervous habit of hers, maybe. though you didn’t see any reason for alexia to be nervous tonight. she should be on top of the world.
your gaze travelled from the gold to the silver trophy behind you. just seeing it made you smile. what an incredible achievement it was. what an incredible journey. for the team, for alexia even more so after the season she’d had full of ups and downs.
“i’m really proud of you.”, you said into the silence. it was out of your mouth before you even realized.
you didn’t look at her, didn’t know if she heard you, but you continued anyway. “i know everyone’s saying that today. everyone is congratulating you and talking about the final and the trophy and all of that.”
a noise escaped from her lips. a laugh, perhaps. a hum, a huff. you weren’t sure, but at least she was listening. “but that’s not really what i mean.”
the silence stretched between you. not uncomfortable. never uncomfortable. you just needed time to find the right words. it was harder than anything, but alexia waited, always patient.
“i think…” you paused. “i don’t know. i just- i’m proud of the person you became.”
when you looked at her, she was already watching you, intrigued. alexia didn’t know where you were going with this; you didn’t either. you just spoke from the heart.
“obviously i’m proud of what you achieved today, too.” you glanced toward the trophy and laughed. “it’s ridiculous, really. three champions league titles is insane.”
a small laugh escaped her. your smile automatically widened at the sound before it faded into something softer.
“but that’s not all. sometimes i feel like people forget what happened before all of this. what you did, what you lost, what you had to give of yourself to get here.”
the words were starting to come easier now, your voice becoming stronger, more certain. “they see you now and it all looks inevitable. like of course alexia putellas was always going to become alexia putellas.”
beside you, alexia smiled and lowered her gaze. a strand of hair fell into her face and you had to suppress the urge to reach up and tuck it behind her ear. you swallowed. “but i remember when things were different.”
you remembered the moments where getting out of bed had seemed difficult enough, let alone carrying the expectations of an entire club, an entire sport. the moments where she had to keep fighting, for herself, for everyone, even when there was no fight left in her. i have to, alexia always said, how else will something change.
“there were a lot of reasons for you to quit. to give less of yourself.”
your voice got quiet and you waited until alexia’s head lifted. you wanted her to understand. “you never did. you still care about everyone around you.” you laughed softly. “maybe too much. you tend to forget about yourself sometimes.”
alexia rolled her eyes at the little jab, but there was no real annoyance behind it. you’d told her this often enough and she knew it was true, but that’s just who she was. she didn’t know how to do it differently.
“you still show up. you still try. you still give everything. you’re unbelievably strong. you’re incredibly brave. you’re inspiring everyone around you.”
your chest tightened when you saw her shake her head in denial and look away. her eyes had turned glassy, shimmering with tears she tried to hold back. uh oh. she couldn’t cry. if she cried, you would too. you breathed in, gathering your thoughts.
your voice was shaking when you finally continued. “the football is impressive. but you are even more so.”
it wasn’t planned, it wasn’t your intention to be so emotional tonight, but you were glad you did it. your hand reached forward, uncertain, hovering awkwardly just a few inches above hers where it rested on the concrete. you waited. alexia noticed, and looked down. she wordlessly turned her hand around and lazed her fingers through yours.
you’d held hands countless times, but this weirdly felt different. it was simply the way she held on that was so unlike all the other times. like she needed it. like she needed you. your hand tingled where she touched you.
alexia stared down at your joined hands. her thumb absent-mindedly brushed over your knuckles. you were focused on her face. the way her brows furrowed, the way she bit her lip.
“i’m not brave.”, alexia whispered eventually.
instantly, you frowned. “ale-” “no.”, she quickly interrupted you. “i’m not. not really. i wish i was.” she sounded so incredibly certain, which was the most confusing part.
alexia, not brave. the thought alone was absurd. someone who had spent her whole life throwing herself at impossible things and somehow making them happen. who carried expectations other people would crumble under. alexia, who had fought her way back from injury while everyone thought she was finished.
if alexia wasn’t brave then the word had lost all meaning. it was laughable to ever think differently. you would have laughed, if the situation had allowed it. instead, all you did was squeeze her hand three times while you vehemently shook your head.
alexia looked up and let out a small laugh when she saw your reaction, the complete disbelief at what she’d said. “i am not!”, she repeated, grinning. “in football, maybe. sometimes. but…”
her grin faded slowly, the amusement slipping away as quickly as it had appeared. for a few moments, alexia said nothing at all. her gaze swept over the city while her thumb kept tracing circles on your skin.
she sighed, and before you could make sense of what she was doing, alexia lifted your hands and pressed a soft kiss against the back of yours. the gesture came so unexpected, was so unexpectedly tender, that it stole every coherent thought from your head. it was only a second, but the spot where her lips had touched your skin burned for far longer.
she laughed suddenly, though there was no humour in it. when she spoke, her voice sounded strange. you couldn’t explain it, but it was different.
“i told myself when we won today, i’d finally be brave.”
alexia swallowed, then her eyes met yours. she just looked…sad. you wanted to hug her until she felt better, but you had a feeling she needed this to finally get everything off her chest.
“and i wasn’t. i didn’t do what i wanted to do.”
the confession hung heavy in the space between you. you frowned, because you genuinely didn’t understand. what could alexia be so afraid of doing. she’d never mentioned anything to you before. nothing that you remembered. though by the sound of it, she’d carried it for a long time.
“then do it now.”, you said, shrugging, as though it was the most obvious thing. it was the easiest solution in your mind, though possibly also the hardest to do.
alexia just blinked at you. “what?”
“be brave now! whatever it was, just do it.” you smiled softly.
alexia looked away immediately. towards the city, towards the stars above, towards anything that wasn’t you. you watched her jaw tense. the way her shoulders rose with a deep breath and fell again. she looked like someone on the edge of a cliff, unable to decide whether to jump or not.
the wind picked up around you, messing with your hair, but you didn’t really notice. you were focused on alexia, on every little movement of her body. this was infinitely more important than anything else.
alexia closed her eyes and breathed in once. twice. three times. “okay, i can do this. i can be brave.”, she whispered under her breath, seeming to hype herself up for what she was going to do next. then, she nodded and opened her eyes.
alexia let go of your hand and turned her whole body toward you. only then did she look at you. properly. like she was allowing herself to for the first time. her gaze moved slowly across your face, taking in every detail. your eyes, your nose, the strands of hair the wind kept blowing into your face, the curve of your mouth. she traced every feature as though it was the first time. or maybe the last.
you couldn’t tell. all you knew was that your heart was beating so hard it hurt. all you knew was that alexia had never looked at you quite like this. all you knew was that this was how you often looked at her, when she wasn’t looking. unguarded, your feelings visible to anyone bothering to look.
you suddenly got the feeling that you knew, that you understood. you knew what she wanted to do. you understood what she was afraid of. it was the same thing you feared. the reason why you’d been hiding your feelings for yours.
in a split second, you made a decision. you decided to turn off your head and let your heart lead. no matter how scary it was. you owed it to alexia, to yourself. if alexia could be brave, if this was really going where you thought it was going, you could be brave too. you couldn’t do it anymore. all that hiding, that pretending had tired you out.
you decided to look back into her eyes. and for the first time in years, you let her see all of it. every stupid feeling, the yearning, the hope, the love you’d never let her see.
whatever alexia saw in your expression made something shift in hers. you saw it happen. saw the exact moment she realized what she was searching for was actually there. her breath caught and her eyes dropped down to your lips. just for a second.
alexia lifted her hand and brushed her fingers against your cheek, warm despite the cooling night air. her touch was so gentle that it almost felt unreal. you found yourself leaning into it before you could stop yourself.
hope flickered across her face and with one last deep breath, she hesitantly leaned forward. slowly, giving you every chance to pull away. you didn’t. you couldn’t. you did the opposite, simply leaned closer.
for one suspended moment, alexia paused. close enough that you could feel her breath on your lips. close enough that you could see every tiny detail in her eyes.
you nodded once, giving her permission. it was barely there, but she saw. must have seen it. because finally, she closed the distance.
there were no fireworks, no moment where the world exploded around you like it did in films. there was only alexia. soft and careful and tentative.
it didn’t feel real. it was real, but you couldn’t believe it. you had imagined this moment. more times than you cared to admit. you had imagined it, but every version fell short. none of them ever felt like this. none of them had ever felt so much like coming home.
the kiss lasted only a few seconds. it both felt like an eternity and like not enough, never enough. when alexia started to pull away, hesitation returning as though she suddenly feared she’d misread everything, panic flared in your chest.
you let out a sound of protest, a whine. your hand moved before you could think about it. finding the back of her neck, fingers slipping into soft blonde hair. you closed the distance again yourself. the breath alexia let out sounded suspiciously like a laugh then, no matter how shaky, but she followed your lead nonetheless.
your lips met again in a kiss, but this time, both of you were smiling.
the alexia news brought me back, I suppose. truly devastating to see her leave, but if she really believes this is what is best for her...
so it's been a while, but i'm trying to get back into writing fanfic again. the heartbreak of the last few days has for some reason made me realize how much i missed it. i've been working on some stuff, which hopefully will be out over the next few weeks, so stay tuned for that!
for now, will only write for alexia, but maybe if an idea strucks, i will write for others too.
When your engagement ends because of your cheating ex-fiancée, you jump at the offer to flee Spain for your company’s office in Monterrey, Mexico. Maybe the distance will mend the hurt and help you find yourself again.
Lola puts you in contact with a friend of hers that similarly made a move to Mexico to find her happiness. And that sets off a chain of events neither of you expect.
Wordcount: 5.4k
Warnings: 18+
Masterlist
Part 3 <- Part 4 -> Part 5
Jenni texts you the next morning. It’s Friday. Home game day. And she feels personally responsible to remind you of this fact with a 7am text message waking you up from sleep.
You groan as your phone pings and roll over to snag it from the bedside table.
Her newest contact name proudly displays on the notification flag on your home screen.
(A Nerd Who Researches Vehicles)
Hola, princesa
Today is game day!
You’re coming, right?
(You)
I don’t come to games of people who wake me up when it’s still dark outside
We got home at like 11pm
How are you up already?
(A Nerd Who Researches Vehicles)
The sun has actually started rising already…so it’s not dark out technically
And I’m a morning person 😀
(You)
Of course you are…
(A Nerd Who Researches Vehicles)
I am going to guess you are not?
(You)
Got it in one
Don’t text me again before 10am
(A Nerd Who Researches Vehicles)
Okay, go back to bed, cari
I’ll text you later
(You)
Well I’m up now
Somebody woke me at the ass crack of dawn with her unchecked optimism
(A Nerd Who Researches Vehicles)
In that case, let me make it up to you
Want to come up to mine for breakfast?
(You)
You know how to cook?
Without giving us both food poisoning?
(A Nerd Who Researches Vehicles)
Sí princesa
My mami taught me to cook
(You)
Okay, I’ll come
Mainly to determine if your version of cook is cold cereal with milk
(A Nerd Who Researches Vehicles)
Come up whenever
510 - in case you forgot
(You)
How could I ever forget my ceiling neighbor?
(A Nerd Who Researches Vehicles)
I am pretty unforgettable
(You)
It is very kind of your mami to tell you that
Jenni laugh reacts to your text, putting a smirk on your face.
(A Nerd Who Researches Vehicles)
I like you, cari
You keep me on my toes
(You)
Just trying to deflate that ego a little bit
Surprised you can fit onto the football court with a head that big
(A Nerd Who Researches Vehicles)
Princesa, it’s pitch or field. Never court
My future wife should know this…
(You)
Not sure I had any say in you proclaiming me your future wife
And I’ve already told you I know nothing about football
(A Nerd Who Researches Vehicles)
Of course you have a say!
But I’m pretty sure you like me…you haven’t told me to leave you alone yet
(You)
Because I doubt that would deter you
(A Nerd Who Researches Vehicles)
Consent is sexy
I would never pursue someone not into it, princesa
Say the word and I’ll retract this back into bro territory
(You)
I don’t want to be your bro
(A Nerd Who Researches Vehicles)
…So you’re saying I’m free to flirt?
(You)
…I guess so
At least it makes me laugh
(A Nerd Who Researches Vehicles)
If you don’t get up here soon all the food might be gone
(You)
Pro athlete problems?
(A Nerd Who Researches Vehicles)
Maní problems
What pings through next is a photo of a brown chihuahua wearing the world’s tiniest sombrero. You choke back a laugh as you brush your teeth.
(You)
What in the world!
Whose adorable dog is this?
(A Nerd Who Researches Vehicles)
Adorable eh?
They say dogs mirror their owners…
(You)
Are you telling me this is your perrito?
(A Nerd Who Researches Vehicles)
Sí
So I guess that means you think I’m adorable
(You)
You have a habit of putting words in my mouth
(A Nerd Who Researches Vehicles)
You have a habit of letting your eyes do the talking, cari
You don’t even dignify that statement with a response, instead opting to get dressed into somewhat more presentable sweatpants and an old Atleti shirt that Cristina gifted you ages ago…not that it has seen the pitch much, more often used as a bed shirt.
Less than five minutes later you’re knocking on what could be your front door if not for the brass numbers proclaiming it as apartment 510 instead of your 410.
Jenni opens the door energetically, a wide grin lighting up her face.
"Bonita!” She exclaims with excitement. “Come in, come in!”
You groan lightly. “It’s too early for a smile that big,” you mutter, entering her home. And then you’re promptly attacked by the small, brown dog from the photo. Sans sombrero hat.
“Maní, calm down, hijo,” Jenni murmurs, bending down to pick up the squirmy pup to bring him up to her chest. “Cari, this is Maní. Maní, this is Maya.”
You gently grab the dog from her hands, noting Jenni’s eyebrow raise. “What?” you question as you walk backwards past her, watching her face.
"He doesn’t usually like being held by anyone other than me,” she responds, her look half petulance at being so easily replaced and half awe at how quickly her dog seems to be wrapped around your finger.
”Guess he recognizes his future Mama,” you tease.
Jenni’s jaw drops in disbelief before your gentle laugh has her snapping it shut "¿Qué?” she questions.
"What?” you ask innocently. “Are you the only one who gets to joke about our future nuptials?”
She’s stunned. You’ve never seen this look on her before, but it is definitely now a goal to recreate it as often as possible.
Her eyes are wide, emphasizing the slight color difference between the two orbs. Without her trademark grin or smirk, her face is surprisingly all soft edges.
You like it.
Sure, you like pushing her off her usual flirty kilter. But she looks so soft, youthful, unguarded. It makes you want to cup her cheek and lay a kiss there to see if she would blush.
Instead you turn around and make for the plush couch in the open layout living room.
You hear Jenni suck in a sharp breath behind you. Settling into the couch with her dog still in your arms, you look up at the footballer.
She’s frozen in the front hallway, and you’re confused. Did you overstep by also joking about the two of you getting married in some fictional future? “Jenni?” you ask softly.
She blinks and shakes her head, eyes roaming down your shirt.
“I’m used to leaving beautiful women speechless, but there’s usually a lot less clothing involved,” you joke, trying to reboot this woman into speaking.
Her eyes snap back to you. She clears her throat. “Your shirt…” she trails off.
“I’m not taking off my shirt,” you respond deadpan.
Jenni raises her hands up in defense. “No,” she starts and then adds more forcefully, “NO!”
“Okkk,” you drawl. “What about my shirt?”
“It’s mine,” she splutters.
“No,” you speak slowly. “Cristina gifted this to me years ago as a gag gift for Christmas.”
“It’s mine,” Jenni reiterates softly, finally walking forward and pointing to you. “That’s me on the back.”
You turn as if you’ll be able to see what she’s talking about and huff in annoyance when you realize it’s physically impossible to see what’s on the back while you are wearing it.
“Here,” she directs quietly, placing her hands on your hips to help you stand. “Turn around.”
You do and hear Jenni snap a picture of the back of your shirt.
And then gentle hands are turning you around by your shoulders. Maní is lifted from your arms and placed on the ground where he pads off into the kitchen, bored with you both.
She turns her phone screen to face you, the picture on display. The back has a large number 10. And above it J. Hermoso in block lettering across your shoulders. Huh. You never noticed that before.
“Hermoso?” you question quietly.
“Sí, my name —Jennifer Hermoso.”
A small laugh leaves your lips. “Life is funny, no?”
Jenni looks at you inquisitively.
“I’ve been sleeping with your name on my back for years,” you tease. “This is my favorite sleep shirt.”
She smirks at you, a tattooed finger reaching out to trail down the collar. “My name looks good on you,” she husks.
You typically would have bristled at what is a possessive sounding sentence, but the tender look in her eyes leaves you feeling breathless instead.
“Come to my game tonight, cari?” she asks quietly, eyes not meeting yours.
You just know it’s intentional, to protect from rejection, from revealing her emotions if your response is a no. You employ that defense yourself.
”Ok,” you reply, finger under her chin lifting her face back up to yours. “Guess I’m already dressed in your uniform, might as well put it to use on an actual pitch,” you reply, proud of yourself for using the correct term.
She groans good-naturedly and tilts her head back to look at the ceiling in fake exasperation. “It’s kit, princesa. Or jersey or shirt. Never uniform. We are not in school.”
You grin at her and shimmy past to head into her kitchen, opening the fridge like you live here.
”Sure, help yourself,” she states sarcastically, moving back to the cutting board where she continues to cut up vegetables for what you’d bet money on is some sort of hash situation.
”Oh, I will, mi mono molesto,” you reply as you pull out a bottle of juice. “Cup?” you question, twirling around at the waist to look at the doors on all her cabinets as if they will hold the answer.
Jenni snorts in amusement. “Your annoying monkey, really? That’s the nickname I get? I give you lovely ones like princess and darling and you give me…annoying monkey?” she questions as she chops the sweet potatoes in front of her.
You smirk as Jenni stops her chopping to grab you a cup from the cabinet nearest you, a hand steadying on your hip as she presses up against you to grab the stem of the juice glass, handing it to you wordlessly.
“I think it fits well,” you respond, pouring yourself juice and returning the bottle to the fridge before sliding into one of the barstools at the island, across from where Jenni chops.
”Hmm?”
”Sí. Your humor is annoying and makes me roll my eyes at least twice a day. And I think you’re secretly a level 5 clinger when it comes to cuddles.”
Jenni snorts. “You can’t possibly know that.”
”Oh, I think I can.”
”Guess you’ll need to cuddle me to find out,” she responds with a soft smile as she adds the chopped vegetables to a sizzling pan on the stove. “We can move this to my bed after I wow you with my cooking,” she flirts.
”Three date rule ring a bell?” you tease, lifting the whining Maní back into your arms. “Mi amorcito, were you feeling ignored?”
”He gets little love as a nickname, and I get annoying monkey?” Jenni questions, throwing her arms in the air in indignation.
”Your mami is so dramatic,” you direct at the small dog. He barks and you smirk as Jenni mutters about “un traitor” not quite under her breath.
”Cari, this equals our third date,” Jenni confidently declares as she starts cracking eggs into a swirling pot of water.
Okay, you are pretty impressed with her skills in the kitchen. She hasn’t cut herself once and is now making poached eggs, something not even you feel confident enough to attempt.
”You’re pretty bad at math,” you inform the footballer. “We haven’t had one date, so we cannot be on date three.”
”I have now fed you three times, princesa. And you’ve laughed every time too. Those are the only ingredients needed to classify what we’ve been doing as dates.” She wiggles her eyebrows at you. And when you snort in amusement at her funny face, she grins in triumph. “See!”
She slides a bowl in front of you along with a fork. You were right, hash with a poached egg on top. Looks delicious. Smells amazing.
Jenni circles the island, bringing her own bowl and fork with her to sit beside you.
Maní is once again grabbed from your arms despite your frown at the action and placed on the ground. Jenni nudges him gently with her foot. He growls lowly in disagreement with her dismissal. “It’s my turn to have her attention,” she chides him before he finally walks away.
”Your turn, huh?”
She shrugs. “Sí, it’s Jenni time.”
You snort at the phrasing, but don’t tease further.
It is a nice feeling, being wanted again. Having someone desire your attention.
Maybe it’s the humor. Maybe it’s the banter. Maybe it’s just Jenni. But you haven’t felt more like the old you, before Sofia, than you do right now next to the footballer.
And you’re realizing perhaps you don’t need to reinvent yourself. Perhaps you just need to rediscover her instead.
---------------------------
You’re back in your apartment later in the afternoon when your phone lights up.
(A Nerd Who Researches Vehicles)
I have a ticket set aside for you at the front booth in the family and friends section
No bumming it with the peasants for you, princesa
I know how you Madrid girls are
(You)
Get used to it, mi mono molesto
You chose to hitch your fictional future marriage to this Madrid girl
(A Nerd Who Researches Vehicles)
Sí, es verdad
Maybe I need to re-evaluate this marriage proposal 😜
(You)
What’s the name of the sport building?
So I can arrange an Uber
(A Nerd Who Researches Vehicles)
Cariño, not sport building!
Stadium. Or field. Or complex
I have a lot of work to mold you into a football wag..
(You)
That is a word I know, finally
(A Nerd Who Researches Vehicles)
It’s funny
For a woman that doesn’t seem to like athletes, you sure seem attracted to the type
(You)
Ever think that maybe athletes are attracted to me?
(A Nerd Who Researches Vehicles)
Touché
And I was thinking that maybe you could drive my Jeep instead of an Uber?
(You)
…you’re letting me drive your car?
Me?
A woman you hardly know?
(A Nerd Who Researches Vehicles)
I know you, cari
Including where you live if my Jeep is returned dented
(You)
But you haven’t even seen me drive!
(A Nerd Who Researches Vehicles)
You look like the kind of woman who looks both ways (twice) before crossing the street
I think I can infer that you’re probably an overly-safe driver
(You)
I feel attacked
(A Nerd Who Researches Vehicles)
You should feel flattered
I don’t let anyone drive my Jeep…
Except my future wife
(You)
Do I just leave it on the street once I get to this sport theatre?
(A Nerd Who Researches Vehicles)
Now you’re doing it on purpose
(You)
Maybe
(A Nerd Who Researches Vehicles)
No, I have parking privileges in a secured lot right up near the field
I’ll send you a pin. Just follow your navigation to that location
Security will see the tag (and the vehicle) and let you in
(You)
Wait, how are you getting to the game then?
(A Nerd Who Researches Vehicles)
I texted a teammate to pick me up
(You)
As in that wasn’t the plan originally?
(A Nerd Who Researches Vehicles)
…no comment
(You)
No, no
You don’t need to change your routine for me
I can find my way to the arena
(A Nerd Who Researches Vehicles)
Yeah, I’m not letting you take an Uber by yourself in a city you don’t know
That’s not safe
I have a vested interest in you making it in one piece
(You)
Fine
I’ll drive your stupid jock car
(A Nerd Who Researches Vehicles)
Thank you, Maya
I’ll drive us home after the match and dinner with the team
(You)
Match? Is there going to be a bonfire?
(A Nerd Who Researches Vehicles)
😐
(You)
Should I wear my flannel?
(A Nerd Who Researches Vehicles)
I’m leaving now…
Check your front door
You walk to your door, intrigued. But where you expect to find the woman herself, you find a gift bag and an empty hallway.
You grab the bag and step back inside, closing the door behind you.
It looks like a gift. But with Jenni’s humor you aren’t sure if you can rule out a prank either. After waiting a minute and nothing jumping out, you look inside and find a yellow shirt—this time with a tiger on the front for her current team mascot.
Sure enough the back has the number 10 and J. Hermoso in white print. She’s gifted you another kit of hers to wear to the match tonight.
There is a handwritten note and her keys in the bottom of the bag.
Bonita,
That Atleti jersey is one of my favorites, but you might get booed back to Madrid if you wear it tonight. So here is a Tigres one for you to keep. Wear it tonight and cheer extra loud so I can hear you on the pitch :)
-J
P.s. Sit by the cute twins if you see them. They’re great conversationalists and belong to two of my teammates, so if you woo them you’ll have an in when we go out to dinner with the team after our win tonight.
You shake your head fondly. Her writing is a mix of flowy chaos. Capital letters mixed in with lowercase, curved t’s and undotted i’s. It’s a mess but oddly pulls your eye the more you look at the note. Much like the woman herself.
You manage to navigate to the stadium without any issue using the pin Jenni dropped for you. You even manage to get past security with only a mere eyebrow raise that clearly conveys that the guard knows exactly whose vehicle you are driving.
Now finding the ticket booth is another story. You’re tucked away in this secure parking lot for players and staff with no idea how to navigate yourself to the general public entrance.
A staff member walking into the building must see your panicked look. She takes pity on you.
"Lost?” she questions lightly.
"You have no idea,” you mutter in reply. “I don’t usually come to these football meets.”
She laughs, your mix-up of words clearly conveying this is a new experience for you. “This is a secured lot, so you must know one of the staff or players?”
You nod your head. “Jenni.”
"Ah! Well follow me, I’ll take you to her.”
"Oh, no, you don’t need to do that!” you protest. “She’s busy I’m sure. I don’t want to be a distraction.”
"They’re all still in the locker room fooling around. And based on how often her eyes have been glued to her phone, I’d say she’ll be very happy to see this distraction,” she finished with a wink, the door held open to the looming building.
You sigh and follow. And hope that this won’t end in embarrassment for you.
Athletes you know can be so particular about their game day rituals. Sofia hated you even texting on game days. Said it pulled her focus too much.
But Jenni’s face when the staff member opens the locker room door, shouts her name, and her eyes meet yours is so obviously opposite from the coldness you came to expect from Sofia that it instantly thaws the brick of anxiety in your gut.
A grin lights up her face. “Princesa!” she loudly exclaims, long legs traversing the distance in a few steps, arms reaching to pull you into a hug. Your first actually.
Her excitement pulls the attention of some of her teammates who now watch you curiously. But you pay them no mind the second her tattooed arms are wrapping around your shoulders, pulling you into her lithe and surprisingly firm body.
Your arms automatically wrap around her back, squeezing once before her voice is filling your ear, words whispered just for you to hear. “You came,” she says in awe.
"I told you I would,” you murmur before letting your arms drop from her back. She takes the hint and a second later releases you with a step back towards the locker room. “Have a good game,” you tease lightly. “Guess I’ll get to assess if you really can pull off pinning someone to a door,” you mutter lowly with a squeeze to her bicep, watching her shocked eyes trail off into a heated stare.
“Oh, cari, I can provide you with a private demonstration of that fact.”
You feel heat settle low in your belly at her words and the piercing gaze she’s directing at you.
A teammate moaning about why one of the girls added “Mr. Brightside” to the pre-match playlist brings you back to the present.
"Well, I should let you get back to it. Any way you could point me in the direction of the ticket booth?”
Jenni chuckles and wraps an arm around your shoulders, walking you down the end of the hallway and pointing to the field. “Not sure how you pulled it off, but you’re already inside, cari. Just head up the ramp and take the stairs immediately on your right. First section has a banner with the Tigres logo—that’s the spot. Should be a staff member there checking folks into the section. Your name is on the list.”
You nod at the lengthy instructions trying to remember them all.
She uses a finger to turn your head to look at her instead of down the tunnel. “You look good in my shirt,” she adds, fingers plucking at the hem playfully. “I’m really glad you came,” she reiterates again, pulling you back into a gentle hug. “I’ll come find you after the match, ok?”
You breathe in her scent, it’s a bit intoxicating. A mix of something fruity with a hint of spice. Makes you take in another drag as you nod at her question. “Go get ‘em, tiger,” you tease.
She laughs. “Been thinking that up all day?”
”You know it. Now go get dressed for the big show.”
”Cari, you’re killing me here,” Jenni moans dramatically.
”Well if that happens I suppose I get Maní all to myself. Could use a bed warmer - it’s a little chillier at night than I expected.”
”Princesa, you aren’t stealing my son. And I make a much better bed warmer. Bigger mass, better cuddles.”
“If we are to be married, seems like he’d be our son, no?” you ask sweetly.
Jenni smirks at you before stepping back. “I really need to get back to the locker room and get ready. Find the twins, yeah? I think you‘ll like sitting next to them. Don’t corrupt them with your terribly incorrect football terminology. I will never hear the end of it.”
You roll your eyes at her teasing and push her gently back down the tunnel. “Go. Show me why you get paid to kick grass.”
Jenni walks backwards down the tunnel, groaning. “Maya, we don’t kick grass. That's literally the opposite of what we do! We kick the ball. That white, round thing. In case you’re confused.”
You flip her off and she laughs loudly as she jogs slowly back to the locker room, leaving you to navigate to your seat.
The twins are freaking adorable.
Nova and Kenzo in their little kits may leave a slight ache of longing in your chest.
You want that. A steady relationship, a partnership, a marriage, kids. The whole 9 yards. You thought you had it in sight until it all got ripped from you.
You spend more of the match playing with them than you do watching the game if you’re honest. But you do watch enough to see that Jenni is in fact very good at this sport. She commands attention in the middle of the pitch, directing play, shouting directions to teammates. They listen. And it works.
When her team scores the first time it’s because she builds it up. Even you can see that, clear as day. She turns in the direction of where you’re sitting and you can see the grin from here, as if she’s showing off for you.
Though, that really comes ten minutes later when she boots the ball from up top and it curls in, ball still rolling even as it stops deep in the net. Jenni runs towards the sideline in front of the section where you are, and you sit up straighter, Nova curled into your chest, sleeping. Jenni points towards you as she runs by, rubbing her fingers together in the universal symbol of money.
To most others, it likely seems like an irrelevant gesture. But, you know it is a subtle reference to your first dinner together where you questioned just how good she was at this whole football thing, and she mentioned she was good enough to be paid to do it for a living.
You chuckle and watch her eyes flit down to the baby in your arms, smirk softening into a smile before she’s jogging back to the center of the field for a new face off or whatever they call it when all the little players reset into their position to go kick the ball again. You'll have to ask her that later.
Before you know it, half time hits and the players walk towards your area, headed down the tunnel back to their locker room. Jenni is one of the last to make the trek, gaze intentionally searching and finding you before she heads out of view, a disarming wink thrown at you as she saunters out of view.
It shouldn’t stir anything in you. She’s Lola’s flirty friend, that’s all. But your body clearly hasn’t gotten the memo, and your stomach flips a touch at the interaction.
The nanny for the twins is a lovely young woman who is saving for graduate school. Something to do with business you think. You are a little chagrined at yourself for not remembering, but Jenni had done a move that caused the crowd to explode, and she had all your focus in that moment.
It isn’t long before the players are walking back out onto the field. You crane your neck looking for the striker. Her height makes her stick out here in Mexico in a way you imagine she didn’t in Madrid. You’re fairly certain that though you’re only 5’7” even you would be considered one of the taller ones if you yourself were on the field.
But even with the height advantage helping you out in your search, you don’t see her in the line of Tigres' players emerging. She boasted so much about being on time when she thought you were competing for Lola that you’re surprised she isn’t leading the line. You’ll have to tease her about it afterwards.
And then there she is, face intense and focused. Even so, you catch her eyes searching for yours and her head incline in your direction before she jogs out onto the field to start the match again.
Sofia would ignore you during the entirety of her games. Had to keep focus in the moment, she said. And you supposed that made sense. You weren’t a professional athlete so you wouldn’t presume to know what it was like in her shoes.
So with that history in mind, this intentional acknowledgement means something. You’re not sure what exactly. But, Jenni Hermoso might just be healing parts of you that you hadn’t realized needed mending. And she doesn’t even know it.
The Tigres continue their domination once play resumes. Jenni is in the thick of it, falling to the grass more than you would like. Every time another player touches her and she falls, your stomach clenches and your thighs tighten as tension flows through your body.
Jenni gets up every time, though. And you can breathe.
She doesn’t score again, but does assist one of her teammates in the final goal of the match. Tigres win 3-0 and you can feel the thrum of celebration in the stands from the fans, little kids clamoring to the front to hopefully get signatures or pictures with the players.
You experienced this with Sofia, the adoration from fans, the want for a piece of the players. You hang back, still in your seat after shifting Nova into her stroller and watching the nanny walk off with the sleeping twins. Presumably towards their mothers.
Jenni said she would find you after the game, so here you sit, in the spot she last saw you. The stadium is one you know you would definitely get lost in if left to your own devices, so you aren’t even wanting to chance it.
After about twenty minutes, the number of fans vying for attention wanes considerably as the majority meander out of the stands for home. You’ve been sporadically people-watching as you scroll on your phone when you decide to send a cheeky photo to Cristina.
Back turned to the pitch you take a selfie, you are completely unaware that the footballer herself is walking up behind you, a large grin in place. You snap the photo, send it with zero context or caption to Cristina, and turn to sit back down when you hear her voice.
“Princesa, save that one for our wedding slideshow.”
You roll your eyes but can’t fight off the small smile that her words pull. “Aye, mi mono molesto. Finally! I thought you forgot about me. I was going to have to raid the food stands for dinner.”
“Nunca, cari,” she says gently, pulling herself up using the railing that separates you two. “Let me shower and change and then we’ll go?”
You nod in agreement, moving to sit back down.
“Nah, not here. Come with me—you can wait in the players’ lounge.”
“That sounds…fancy. Players’ lounge?”
Jenni just stares at you for a second, frown in place. “It’s typical for a professional team. Your ex never brought you to her team’s lounge?”
You think for a second. Shake your head no, silent.
The striker blows out a breath. “After 10 years? Mierda,” she states. “You’re going to have to break it down for me one day, bonita. How she got you while treating you so much less than she should have. Let’s go,” she indicates behind you towards the walkway.
You turn and feel those damn fingertips ghosting your back again. They feel like a comfort you never realized you needed, to be touched like you are worth the consideration of care. Without expectation or intention of getting something in return.
It eases the tension that you hold in your body at realizing that maybe the things Sofia convinced you were typical athlete things aren’t really at all.
Jenni slips an arm over your shoulders, body pulled in next to hers, as you enter the internal hallway of the facility. “Did you like my goal celebration?” she asks cockily.
It pulls a laugh from you. “Sí, superestrella.”
“Now I like that nickname a lot better,” she emphasizes with a squeeze.
“Don’t get used to it,” you banter back as she pulls open a door with a plaque deeming it the lounge.
You see the twins and their nanny inside along with quite a few other people who you assume are friends or family of the players.
Jenni speaks softly. “I’ll be quick, okay? We’re going out to eat right after this—have the top floor of one of the local restaurants reserved since it’s family weekend.”
Ah, that might explain the larger crowd in this room than you expected. You nod at her with a smile before seeing the twins awkwardly stumbling around, feet unsteady, your gaze diverted. Kenzo sees you and makes towards you, surprising you since he just met you.
You realize your mistake at the last second, arms almost reaching out for him. Until Jenni’s tattooed arms reach forward, scoping the little boy into the air, kisses peppering his face as he laughs.
And you’re not sure you’ve seen her look more attractive than she does in this moment, eyes shining, laugh lines adorning her face, and a baby in her arms.
She definitely doesn’t need to know this fact, her ego is already healthily inflated.
Though, the small smirk she throws you above his head has you wondering if perhaps your face has betrayed you on keeping it a secret just how affected you are at seeing her like this.
Because Jenni with a baby is not something you were prepared to witness. And it may have landed somewhere in the middle of your chest and taken root.
The restaurant is loud. It’s lively. It’s filled with laughter that’s been earned; it’s the sound of relief after a season that gave the team everything they’d wanted.
Alexia sits among them, nodding along, smiling where she should. She’s been here before, many times before, at these dinner celebrations. They’re the spectacle that everybody looks forward to. But tonight, for the captain, the joy feels thin. In fact it’s barely there at all.
Across the table, you’re laughing at something Patri said. Your hand brushes her shoulder when you lean back, just a thoughtless thing, a habit of yours Alexia loved, and the touch lands like a spark she has no right to feel. You look radiant under the low amber light. Eyes bright with champagne and contentment. You’re carefree.
Alexia looks away far too late.
She fiddles and folds her napkin, unfolds it again. Clenches it in one fist before quickly letting go. Her throat is dry and her smile feels practiced. The kind you would affectionately scold her for, if you were sitting next to her.
This is what she wanted though, isn’t it? A season of all seasons. Too many trophies than should be legally allowed to win in one football calendar year. Playing with beasts, against beasts, and coming out on top time and time again. An inhumane amount of goal involvements to games played ratio. The clearest shot of her life so far for her third golden ball, beating her previous two. It was exactly what she wanted, what she trained for.
But it had all come at a cost. One she, ironically, had never prepared herself for.
You used to squeeze her thigh under the table at these dinners, your secret signal that the night was running too long. You would catch her eye, grin, and whisper that you wanted her to take you home. She’d try and pretend to hesitate, try to argue that the captain can’t be the first to leave. You’d tell her, with an even bigger grin, a grin that was home to all of her love, that technically she wouldn’t because you’d walk out first. She’d give in, every single time.
Her fingers twitch against her own thigh, lacking a warmth that was no longer familiar but had once been a constant. It was only an hour in, but this particular dinner seemed to be dragging at an exponentially slow rate.
The table roars again as someone recounts a story they’d all heard hundreds of times but never got old. Alexia finds the energy to force a laugh. She looks up and catches you smiling at her. Not your usual smile. Despite that, for a second it’s the same as it used to be. Like at the start of your relationship years ago and trying to hide it from the team on a night just like this. Quick smiles, lingering hands, simultaneous trips to the bathroom that somehow went unnoticed. Just for Alexia to get too in her feelings one night after a big win and kiss you in the middle of the locker room.
Then the memory is gone as windingly quick as it came. You look past her, saying something to Kika, and Alexia realises she’s holding her breath and that the smile she witnessed wasn’t meant for her. She lets it out slowly.
It should be easier by now. Months have passed and she believes that she’s mastered the art of pretending she’s moved on. But her performance tonight doesn’t hold a candle to the version of her that’s supposedly over it.
It’s nights like this that remind her she never will be over it.
Everyone she adores is gathered close, all around one table at a dinner that celebrates them as a team and them as people individually. And you’re still close enough to touch but there might as well be a lifetime between you. Well, now, there is.
Different apartments on different sides of town. It’s not the way she imagined things would end. She doesn’t know what happened to the future she’d pictured and where along the way that frame had been smashed.
You were meant to sit beside her on those flimsy, plastic white garden chairs that were only kept because the best memories happened when someone sits down in them for a moment and somehow gets caught up in a flash-before-your-eyes-at-death type of priceless memory. She was meant to witness such a thing with her hand in yours as your kids, grandkids too, run around the garden of the house she’d designed to a T to be the safety nest for that exact scene.
She was meant to look to her left and see your softest smile at the life you’d built together.
But now she looks to her left and you’re not there. You’re across the table some chairs down, and it’s too late for her dreams.
And somehow she’s expected to sit at this dinner and make toasts about the season that took you away from her.
A speech starts somewhere near the middle of the table, brought on giddily by a tipsy Kika. She drones on far too long about how her second season at the club of her life was better than she thought it could ever be, and the likes of Vicky and Pina heckle her to let someone else talk. The whole ordeal is spontaneous and messy, some saying more than others, some sick to the stomach at the thought of being put on the spot only to say something that has them all near tears. It’s the perfect picture definition of what the team is.
Alexia tries to listen. She really does. The midfielder catches Irene saying something about how the team is a family who go to war for each other, even if their version of war is begging for a penalty call somewhere in Europe on a random weekday evening. It sounds like something Alexia would say, and when she looks at Irene, the older woman gives her a knowing look. A small grace for Alexia on a night she feels she deserves anything else but that.
Eventually it is her turn to speak, and everybody quietens down for their captain. She stands with her glass in hand, the scrape of her chair against the floor seeming especially loud.
They’re aware she’s been distant tonight for whatever reason and aren’t expecting much. At least, they certainly weren’t expecting the torment of emotion she seems to be feeling.
“What an incredible year.” Alexia starts. She clears her throat afterwards in a desperate and futile attempt to rid the lump that sits there. It doesn’t budge a bit. “From the bottom of my heart, thank you all. All of you.”
It takes everything within her to not look at you.
She raises her glass, and everybody else follows suit.
“To a dream come true,” She says, earning a few nods. But the brunette has never had a good resolve when it comes to you, and she knows she’s got nothing to lose anymore. So she looks directly at you when she speaks next. “And in the hopes of many more.”
It sounds genuine enough. The table cheers and applauds her.
You’re staring at her, clapping slowly, still processing her words and how they seemed to have a second meaning the others didn’t catch. Alexia had looked away momentarily as she sat back down, but when she’s seated in her chair again, her chin raises to meet your gaze.
The applause fades and conversation picks back up, the team moving on whilst the two of you stay in whatever stand-off you found yourselves in. She can’t keep up with the intensity of it, so breaks the contact as she puts her glass down on the table. Her hand trembles as she does so and she knows you see it. Tries to hide it by smoothing her hair back in the same way she always does but there’s no stray strands to pick up. It’s just for show. And she hates that you know that too.
You’re still looking at her. She flicks her gaze back to you hesitantly.
This time, you smile at her. Small and slow, polite and safe. But she knows better and it hurts. Because those shared smiles were never meant to be just civil, they were muscle memory from the love shared. They were natural instinct, an act of devotion that took no second thought. Now they’re nothing more than a peace keeper. An apologetic smile with no spine, because you weren’t apologising and she knew that far too well.
It was an acknowledgement for her words, not quite a thank you but close enough that it broke her heart all over again. A smile that was a ghost of everything the two of you once shared.
Finally, you look away. And it’s a ‘finally’ because she wasn’t sure how much longer she could share a gaze with you and not blink away the burning sensation behind her eyes. She does exactly that as she watches your smile bloom into something happier, not burdened by Alexia’s evident pain, whilst you start joking around again with Salma next to you.
She wonders if anyone notices that she’s here but isn’t. Irene has, but Irene hardly counts because she’d cried on the Basque woman’s shoulder one evening a few months ago in the same dressing room she’d kissed you in. Irene didn’t count.
She wonders if anyone has noticed that everytime her glass touches her lips, she’s swallowing down words she can’t say anymore. Wonders if they knew she was celebrating a season she’d trade in a heartbeat to have you back in her life as more than just her teammate. That her words were meant for one person rather than however many were at the table.
With everything she has, she tries to stop thinking about you for at least a second. Vicky asks her a question and she concentrates on her answer more than she normally would have to. Yet, even then, she’s aware of every movement you make, every sound you make. The way you laugh and how it used to be directed at her.
She glances at you for what she intended to be just a second, but she sees the way you’re listening to Salma and it’s a sight she recognises. Your eyes are on the young forward as you listen intently, chin under your hand, and she can describe your expression off by heart. Open, patient, and amused. The same one she’d been on the receiving end of more times than she could count.
Then she can’t help herself. Her mind consumes her with the memory of a night just like this, that had become so much more.
“Shoes off, amor.” Alexia had murmured that night, a rule of her apartment you were more than familiar with but still heard everytime you walked in.
“I know that, Ale. I’ve been here before.” You’d teased, kicking your shoes off by her door and grinning at her as you did so.
“Hmm, sí, you have.” She hummed, which just had you rolling your eyes.
“You can’t be cocky like that when you still have your medal on. It’s not as hot as you think it is.”
You’d gone to walk past her and beeline for her sofa – 90 long minutes of football against a particularly disgruntled Espanyol paired with a long evening of celebrating the league title won that day had tired you out. Except on your way, an arm reached out to stop your waist, and before you knew it your back was to the wall and a certain brunette had invaded your space.
“Vale, but you still think it’s hot.” She said after having caught you out with your own words. Her arms were low around your waist, hands resting on the lower curve of your spine as yours came to wrap around her shoulders. You pulled her in a little closer, something that made her smirk soften into a smile.
“I do. I’m not ashamed to admit that.” You shrugged, causing her smile to grow on her face. Watching it happen before your eyes was one of your favourite things.
“No, no complaints from me, amor.” Your girlfriend preened. You laughed, and she joined in too, because the sound she elicited from you was too contagious not to.
“Not my fault it suits you so well. Like you were born to win.”
The compliment brought an uncharacteristic blush to her cheeks. It meant the world to her to hear it from you, because you were her world. And from the first time she’d kissed you, she had made a promise to both herself and you that she’d make sure you knew that.
“I think I was born to love you, actually.” Alexia stated simply, and it was the simplicity that you loved most about it. How easy she loved you. How quick she was to tell you at any given opportunity.
You leaned in and thanked her with a kiss, because it was the only way you knew how. Not a kiss that would lead to anything, because you were both too exhausted and there’d be a better time for that, but instead just a kiss that was slow and gave more than enough time and space for things to be communicated which words couldn’t capture. One of your favourite kinds. And Alexia relished it, relished the feeling of your lips soft against hers, until you broke it off.
“They’re one and the same, Ale.” You whispered against her mouth. “That’s why I love you.”
She had completely ran out of words for you, mind numbed a little by the long day that’d been had. So instead, she brought a hand up to your jaw and held your face in her palm. Her fingers splayed out across your cheek, and her thumb stroked along your cheekbone just under your eye.
“Let’s go to bed, amor.” She suggested in her softest voice, gazing at you with a gentleness you swore only she possessed. “It’s been a long day.”
You’d never gotten ready for bed faster in your life than you did that night. The thought of laying in bed with the love of your life after winning another title together was, maybe rather strangely, perhaps the most appealing thing you could have heard in that moment. It was all you wanted, and all you got.
After she had taken a quick shower, Alexia came out of the ensuite with her hair dripping against the shirt she had thrown on, foregoing shorts as she headed over. You were in bed already, tucked under the duvet and watching her approach with a soft smile. She laughed at your face as she climbed in beside you, then again at the speed of which you cuddled into her side.
When you’d gotten comfortable in the usual position with her, it was like you were never meant to be apart. It sent your mind reeling, as it often did at night. Thinking about all kinds of things, possibilities. Wondering where this life with Alexia could take you.
“Where do you think we’ll end up after all this, Ale.” You mumbled, almost half-asleep, and catching Alexia off-guard.
Then your words settled within her, and she smiled, already imagining it all.
“Together, I hope.” She’d answered.
That sends a shiver down her spine as she sits at the table, still watching you talk, still reminiscing on a time that she didn’t believe she had a right to think back on. In that moment, everything had seemed so perfect. So promised. And it breaks her all over again that it had slipped away from her.
“We will be.” You laughed her off, shaking your head against her neck. “Come on. Tell me more.”
She took a moment to think, but her hand didn’t, where it traced patterns over your shoulder with the arm she had wrapped around your back when you’d tucked into her side. The repetitiveness of it nearly sent you to sleep, but her voice kept you awake.
“I want to build a house for the future. Not too big, otherwise it won’t feel like a home. But with a nice bedroom for… us,” She said shyly, her nerves dissipating when she felt the huge grin against her skin you tried to stifle. But how could you, when someone like her was offering to build a house for you. “And a few more bedrooms for guests first. Then…”
“Our kids?” You butted in, sleepy excitement clear in your voice. Alexia chuckled quietly under her breath, then turned to leave a kiss against your forehead. The first wasn’t enough to satiate her, so she left a second and her lips lingered a little longer, before pulling away again.
“Sí, our kids.” The midfielder agreed in a soft whisper.
“How many?”
“I don’t know. You?”
“Well, I think I will retire before you. It will take a while to pull you away from football.” You said, Alexia grinning knowingly. “So I’ll carry our first. Some point after, you’ll retire. Then if you want to, you can carry our second.”
Silence fell for a minute or two. And Alexia decided she quite liked the sound of your plan. She felt her heart warm in her chest, if it was possible. It felt pretty possible. Anything felt possible to her in that moment.
“And if we decide to have three or more, then… we can rock, paper, scissors for who carries. Or have a penalty shootout.”
The laughter that sounded through the room after that was the perfect natural end to the conversation. Nothing more needed to be said when everything already felt complete.
Alexia wishes she had said so much more. Wishes she’d done so much more, so that she could have had a better chance at the future the two of you had talked about that night.
She glances around the room at the people she loves. She sees how happy they are and envies them. Envies the fact that their minds aren’t eating themselves alive because the love of their life doesn’t fit that description anymore and that they can enjoy the night without torturing themselves with memories.
Still laughs when she’s supposed to. Nods at conversation she doesn’t quite hear over the sheer volume of the nostalgia ripping through her.
Then you get up from your chair, and for a second Alexia thinks you’ll glance at her again. Even if it’s painful she’d always do anything for one last look at your eyes. But as you walk past her towards the bathroom, you don’t.
It hurts. Something so stupid and small leaves her feeling like she’s had her heart ripped right out of her. Because it’s not just something small, it’s the rest of her life. That’s how the rest of her life will play out, instead of the one you’d planned together.
She stares at your empty chair and feels desperate for someone to fill it so she isn’t faced with the reminder that you are gone and always will be gone. Doesn’t like how it’s a reminder of her future.
Her chest tightens, and there’s an ache where her certainty used to be.
She tells herself she’ll go home soon and that she’s just tired. That tomorrow she’ll wake up and it will all sting less. But she knows she’s lying, because tonight, the only thing she’ll be left with is this: she still loves you. She will probably always love you.
And instead of doing anything about that, she’s forced to stand from her chair too for a group photo. Everyone gathers on her side of the table as one of the restaurant staff takes the picture. Alexia finds herself at the end of the line, despite complaints that she should be in the middle. She has an arm around Marta’s shoulder beside her and tucks the other into her pocket. Feigns interest in the conversation happening as everybody waits for you to come back.
When you do, the single spot left for you is by Alexia. Right next to her.
You have no qualms heading straight there, but Alexia feels as if she could throw up. Takes a deep breath when your arm wraps around her waist. Has to force herself to wrap hers around your shoulders.
The only thing that gets her through the photo – through the torment of your perfume, Alexia’s favourite scent in the world, drowning her senses and almost pulling her under – is the picture that comes to mind for her.
She knows it would have been a chaotic scene if it had ever been given the chance to come to fruition.
But it would have been the kind of chaos that belongs to family and family only.
Alexia pictures her mother, the abuela to her three children and Alba’s two, trying to rally them all together. Trying to calm them down for the maximum five seconds they’d be required to stand still for.
Most importantly of all, you’d be standing there beside her. Like you had for many club photos over the years, except this photo would be the one hung over everyone’s fireplaces. You and Alexia, Alba and her partner. Eli in between the two couples, with the kids lined up in front pulling whatever faces they wanted.
Alexia wouldn’t care that her son was trying to pull the ugliest face he could, or that her two daughters were caught by the camera telling him off for it. Because she’d be looking at you, you’d be looking at her, and the lens would capture the sight of you two happier than ever. In the middle of the future that had been planned one random evening in her apartment bed after winning another trophy together.
She wouldn’t care, because in the middle of it all, she would hear your voice, paired with the smile you reserved just for her.
“This might be everything I imagined, Ale.”
That’d never be the case now. She would have to come to terms with the fact that she had loved you once– and still.
But, well, if the kids she imagined in her future still belonged to you, if she still pictured the wedding ring on her finger being placed there by you, those would be secrets she’d take to the grave.
—
daniel caesar’s new album is a serious risk for sending me spiralling into a psychotic break, so i wrote this instead on a whim. idk how it’s turned out i haven’t read it and i hit post without desperately overthinking it. thank you for reading🫶🏼
You go to your cousins wedding in Spain, and you catch the eye of the Alexia Putellas, she unintentionally becomes your plus one
Wordcount: 5.5k
Other Parts
You guided Alexia carefully into the car, sliding her crutches into place beside her as she settled into the passenger seat. Her knee was still bandaged and braced, and the careful way she shifted made your chest tighten with protective instinct.
“Ready?” you asked softly, starting the engine.
“Sí… physio,” she muttered, wincing slightly as she adjusted herself against the seat. “You… stay with me?”
“Always,” you said, reaching over to steady her with a hand on her thigh as you navigated the streets to Barça’s training ground.
When you arrived, you parked near the entrance and helped her carefully out of the car. Her steps were slow, deliberate, and your arm was steady at her side.
At the reception, Alexia leaned on the counter lightly, glancing at you briefly before turning to the receptionist. The woman behind the desk didn’t speak English, and Alexia’s rapid Spanish made for a quiet comedy of gestures and words.
You watched with a small smile as Alexia pulled you into the process. She gestured toward you, murmuring her explanation and your role. Finally, after a few patient moments of back and forth translating, she handed you a laminated pass.
“Here,” she said, her accent thick but proud. “You… with me. Go in.”
You took it, slipping it around your neck, and Alexia gave you a small nod, a mix of thanks and reassurance. “Gracias… girlfriend,” she whispered, her eyes flicking up at you with a faint, mischievous glint.
You grinned, leaning closer to press a quick kiss to her lips. “Let’s get you to physio.”
Her smile was soft, almost shy, as she let you walk beside her down the hall toward the treatment rooms, the two of you moving together like a team, quiet, careful, and utterly in sync.
You walked slowly down the wide, polished hallways, Alexia leaning on her crutches while you stayed close, hand ready at your side to support her if she wobbled. The pace gave you time to look around, and your eyes caught on the walls lined with photos of the women’s team, goal celebrations, trophy lifts, team huddles, moments of pure joy frozen in time. Each frame seemed to radiate pride and history, a clear statement that this squad celebrated their achievements and each other. You found yourself smiling quietly, soaking in the energy.
Your reverie was broken by Alexia speaking in rapid Spanish to a man coming down the hallway. She gestured toward you as she spoke, and you caught a few words here and there before she turned toward you, smiling.
“This is Y/N, my girlfriend,” she said, her broken English deliberate, proud, and a little teasing as she introduced you.
The man extended his hand, a warm grin on his face. “Nice to meet you,” he said, his English clear but kind.
You shook his hand firmly, returning the smile. “Nice to meet you too.”
Alexia squeezed your hand briefly, then gestured for you to move a little closer as she continued speaking to the coach in Spanish. You caught a flicker of amusement in her eyes, the mischievous glint that only appeared when she was pleased or teasing.
You felt a quiet swell of pride, her words, her public acknowledgment, the easy confidence with which she included you it was a small but powerful moment, and it made your chest tighten with affection.
Alexia finally turned fully toward you, giving your hand a gentle squeeze and a soft laugh. “Let’s go, girlfriend,” she murmured, and you followed, still smiling. As you walked down the hallway, Alexia leaned slightly on her crutches and murmured, “Julio… says training run over.”
You glanced at her, raising an eyebrow. “Overrun?”
“Sí… longer. But…” She gestured toward a set of large doors at the end of the corridor. “We go… sit little while, watch.”
Curious, you followed her lead, stepping out into the sunlight as the doors swung open. Immediately, the noise and energy of the training ground hit you, the sharp thuds of balls being kicked, whistles cutting through the air, shouts of encouragement, the rhythmic slap of boots on turf. It was chaotic but thrilling, and the warmth of the sun made it even more vibrant.
Alexia guided you toward a small seating area at the edge of the pitch, helping you settle before perching herself nearby. You took a deep breath, letting the sounds and movement fill you, watching her closely as she leaned on her crutches, her eyes scanning the field as though she were still part of it despite her injury.
“See?” she whispered, her voice low and warm, not needing to raise it over the din. “Good… to see.”
You nodded, following her gaze, feeling the excitement of the session and the calm intimacy of being there with her. There was no rush, no demands, just you, Alexia, and the energy of the team before you.
This was her world and you were in awe.
You watched as Alexia’s eyes followed the players on the pitch, her brows furrowing slightly as she tracked their movements, even though she wasn’t in the drill herself. There was something completely natural in the way she shifted her weight on the crutches, attentive and focused, like she was still part of it all.
Then, a figure wandered over, you knew the younger girls face it was on Alexia's fridge, and it was obvious she had a little sisterly rapport with Alexia, the way she approached, warm and open, made Alexia’s posture relax instantly.
Vicky leaned down toward the cooler Alexia was perched near, and Alexia’s hand gestured animatedly as she spoke in rapid Spanish. You couldn’t follow any of the words, but the tone and the movements made it clear, they were talking football. Her hands mimicked passes, runs, and formations, occasionally pointing at the pitch, nodding at specific players.
You found yourself smiling quietly, impressed by Alexia’s inability to switch off, football as truly not only her job, but her whole world and her identity. There was a gentle authority in her gestures, a soft but firm guidance, and a warmth in the way she interacted with the girl.
The girl laughed at something Alexia said, and Alexia’s grin was wide, genuine, entirely unguarded. Alexia glanced at you with a small, proud smile and then, with a playful tilt of her head, gestured toward you. “This… my girlfriend, Y/N, by the way,” she said, her broken English deliberate, making sure there was no confusion.
The girl’s eyes widened slightly, and she looked a little shy as she bent down toward you. You shifted onto the grass to meet her halfway, holding out your hand.
“Nice to meet you,” you said warmly, smiling.
“You too,” she replied softly, her cheeks coloring a little.
“Muppet, this is Vicky,” Alexia added, her tone teasing as she nudged you gently.
You grinned at Vicky. “Ah, the famous Stitch! I hear a lot about you,” you said, using the nickname Alexia had mentioned before.
Vicky laughed, a little more relaxed now, shaking her head. “All good things, I hope,” she said, and you both chuckled.
Alexia leaned back slightly, smirking at the interaction, clearly pleased with how natural it felt to have you included in her little circle. You felt a quiet swell of pride, enjoying the small, intimate moment of being welcomed into her world.
As the whistle blew across the training pitch and the drills began to wind down, you noticed movement, heads turning, smiles breaking out as more and more of the players spotted Alexia perched on her cooler with her crutches at her side. A few of them waved, others started jogging in her direction, their faces lit up with that blend of respect and affection only Ale seemed to command.
You pushed yourself to your feet, brushing the grass off your thighs, not wanting to be in the middle of what looked like a reunion between captain and team. Alexia gave you a quick glance, almost like a silent “you okay?” and you answered with a small nod before slipping away toward Patri. She was leaning casually against the barrier, arms folded, her grin widening when her eyes landed on you. You couldn’t help smiling back there was something easy about her, the kind of comfort that had carried over from Carmen’s hen do when you’d first really gotten to know her.
“Look who it is,” Patri teased as you closed the gap. “The London celebrity, sneaking around Barcas training ground like she belongs here.”
You laughed lightly, rolling your eyes. “Oh please. If anyone’s sneaking around, it’s you. I thought you’d be too busy kicking a ball to notice me.”
Patri chuckled, shaking her head. “Nah, you’re hard to miss.” She tilted her head toward Alexia, who was now surrounded by teammates, her arms full of hugs despite the crutches. “She looks happy, you know. Like… really happy.”
The sincerity in her voice caught you a little off guard, and you felt your cheeks warm, though you fought to play it cool. “She makes me happy too,” you admitted quietly, your voice softer than before.
Patri’s grin softened into something more genuine, a friend’s reassurance. “Good. Then don’t let her scare you with that serious face of hers. Underneath, she’s all soft.”
You laughed again, feeling a warmth in your chest at her words. Standing there with Patri, you realized that for the first time, you didn’t feel like an outsider in Alexia’s world.
☀️
The physio room hummed with the low buzz of machines, the occasional clatter of equipment, and the measured voices of the staff giving instructions Alexia was only half-listening to. You were sat in one of the chairs against the wall, next to Patri, Mapi, and Jana, with Carmen perched on a stool not far away her watchful eyes flicking between you and her captain.
Alexia’s jaw was tight, her posture stiff. Every time the physio asked her to adjust or pushed her a little, she dismissed it with that clipped tone, like she was humouring them instead of trying. You’d seen it before Alexia retreating into frustration, that storm cloud starting to settle.
“Alexia,” you said firmly, just loud enough to cut through. She turned her head, eyes narrowing slightly, but she held your gaze. “You’ve come back stronger from far worse. You just need to grin, bear it, and get on with this.”
Carmen let out a low mutter, “Harsh,” under her breath, but Alexia didn’t snap back at you. She just stared like she was weighing every word.
“Muppet,” she said finally, her voice low, half-exasperated, half, something softer.
“Do you love football?” you asked.
“More than anything.” Her reply was automatic, her shoulders loosening, until she caught herself and added quickly, “Obviously not more than you, my beautiful girlfriend I-”
You lifted a hand, shutting her down mid sentence. “Sitting there right now, how does the thought of never playing again sound?”
Her eyes hardened, a flicker of vulnerability shining through. “Like hell.”
“Exactly,” you said, leaning forward in your chair. “So what do you want? Hell for 5–8 weeks to get back to it, or hell for the rest of your life?”
For a long moment, Alexia just stared at you, her lips pressed together, something battling behind her eyes. The room was quiet enough that you could hear the physio adjusting the resistance bands at her feet.
Then you sighed, leaning back a little, “No? Tough love not going to work then?”
Jana was smirking faintly like she was impressed you dared to push Ale that way. Patri bit back a laugh, nudging Mapi who only shook her head with a grin. Carmen was still watching closely, her jaw tight but her eyes warm like she was seeing something in the way you handled Alexia.
And Alexia? She was still staring at you, but now there was a shift, a flicker of determination cracking through the frustration, like your words had landed exactly where they needed to.
Alexia’s stare held on you for a beat too long, her mouth pressing into that familiar stubborn line you knew so well. You thought she might bite back, maybe dismiss you the way she had the physios.
Instead, she exhaled through her nose, almost a laugh but not quite, and looked down at her knee. “Muppet,” she repeated, this time softer. Her hand flexed on the edge of the treatment table, then she glanced at the physio. “Otra vez. Show me again.”
The physio’s eyes widened just slightly, then he nodded and adjusted the band around her ankle. Alexia leaned into it, her face tightening with effort, but she didn’t pull away, didn’t roll her eyes, didn’t brush him off. She worked through it.
You felt Patri’s elbow nudge your side, and when you glanced over, she had a knowing grin. You got through to her.
Carmen was biting her lip, pride softening her expression. Mapi whispered something in Jana’s ear in Spanish, the two of them smirking like they were watching some kind of show.
Alexia pushed through another rep, then let the band snap back with a hiss. She lifted her gaze back to you, cheeks flushed, sweat at her temple. “Happy now?” she asked in English, but there wasn’t bite to it, just a quiet challenge, like she was letting you win.
You leaned back in your chair, arms folded, fighting a smile. “Very.”
Alexia shook her head, muttering something in Spanish you didn’t understand, but her lips twitched at the corner.
Carmen leaned forward, her voice teasing but laced with relief. “Looks like we finally found Ale’s motivation.”
“She just needed someone to boss her around,” Patri added, earning a round of soft laughter.
Alexia rolled her eyes but didn’t argue, her gaze flicking back to you, warm and steady. “Not boss. Girlfriend,” she corrected.
☀️
You lingered back as Alexia thanked the physio, the other girls drifting out of the room in their usual chatter. When she finally came hobbling over on her crutches, you fell into step beside her, quiet until you’d put a bit of distance between you and everyone else.
She gave you a sidelong glance, her lips quirking. “You boss me in front of everyone,” she muttered, half amused, half incredulous.
You shrugged, feigning innocence. “Only because you needed it.” Then you leaned a little closer, voice dropping low so only she could hear. “Besides… you keep working like that, pushing through? Might be rewarded with a few more mornings like yesterday.”
Her steps faltered, and she gripped her crutches tighter, her eyes narrowing at you as though she hadn’t heard right. “Muppet…” she said slowly, her accent thick, “you mean…?”
You grinned, eyes glinting with mischief. “Exactly what you’re thinking.”
Alexia’s ears went pink, and she tried to mask it with a scoff, looking forward again, but the way her jaw flexed and her lips pressed together betrayed her. “You dangerous,” she muttered under her breath, but her smirk betrayed her.
“Motivating,” you corrected softly, bumping her shoulder gently with yours.
“Mm,” she hummed, pretending to think as you walked, “Motivation… maybe I like it.”
You reached over, taking the strap of her kit bag off her shoulder before she could protest, slinging it over your own instead. “Good. Then keep showing me how hard you can work, baby.”
That earned you the smallest, softest laugh, but when she looked at you again, her eyes had that determined glint you loved.
☀️
The drive back was quiet at first. Alexia had her head leaned against the window, the steady hum of the engine filling the silence between you. You didn’t push her she’d had a draining day, both physically and emotionally.
About ten minutes in, though, you heard her shift in her seat. She was staring straight ahead, fingers drumming on her thigh. Finally, she spoke, voice low.
“You know… I don’t let people talk to me like that,” she said, still not looking at you.
You glanced at her, one hand steady on the wheel. “Like what?”
“Like you. Today. In physio.” Her jaw worked. “I don’t like being told what to do.”
You smiled faintly, eyes flicking back to the road. “Oh, I know. Believe me.”
That pulled a small, reluctant laugh from her. She rubbed her knee carefully before her tone softened. “But… with you… it’s different.”
You let the silence hang, giving her space. Eventually, she turned her head, her gaze searching your profile.
“I needed that,” she admitted. “Not pity. Not everyone saying, ‘you’ll be fine, Ale.’ You make me… fight. Even when I don’t want to.”
Your chest warmed, but you kept your voice steady. “That’s because I know you and I know football’s in your veins. If tough love is what it takes to get you back out there, I’ll do it. Every single time.”
Her lips parted like she wanted to argue, but then she just smiled, small and almost shy. “Te amo,” she whispered, more fragile than usual.
You reached across, brushing your fingers against hers until she threaded them together. “I love you too,” you said simply, giving her hand a squeeze. “Will you still love me when I’m bossy?”
She chuckled, shaking her head. “Especially then, maybe.”
☀️
You slipped the key into the door, easing it open with Alexia leaning heavily against her crutches beside you. She was exhausted, you could see it in her face, the set of her shoulders but she still muttered a stubborn little, “I walk myself,” when you tried to help her up the stairs.
“Mhm,” you teased, hand at her back anyway, “and if you fall, I’m telling Patri it was your pride’s fault.”
That earned you a side eye glare, but the corner of her mouth tugged up, betraying her. She made it upstairs, into the bedroom, and collapsed onto the edge of the bed with a long exhale, finally letting you ease the crutches aside.
“Rough day, huh?” you said softly, moving to unlace her trainers for her. She watched you carefully, eyes heavy-lidded.
“Sí… rough,” she admitted, then with the tiniest smirk, “And… I am needy.”
That pulled a laugh from you. “Oh, are you now?”
She flopped back against the pillows, legs stretched out, hair messy from where she’d pushed it back with her hand. “You… cuddle me,” she whispered, like a demand and a plea all at once.
You crawled onto the bed, slipping into the space beside her. Her arm came around you instantly, pulling you close until your head rested on her chest. She pressed her lips to your temple, sighing in relief as if she’d only been able to breathe properly once you were there, “Better?” you asked against her shirt.
Her fingers traced lazy patterns over your back. “Always better… when you here.”
Your chest tightened at how soft she sounded. You tilted your chin up to kiss her jaw, lingering. “I’ve got you, Ale. For the rehab. For the bad days. For all of it. Just let me in, okay?”
Her eyes fluttered closed, another kiss dropped onto your hair. “Muppet… I let you in a long time ago.”
You lay like that for a while, her breathing slowing, your body curled around hers. Even in her tired, needy state, her hand never stopped moving on your back, a reassurance for herself as much as it was for you.
Her breathing evened out under you, and for a second you thought she’d fallen asleep, but her fingertips slid instead down to your hip. She squeezed, slow and deliberate, and you felt her lips press into your temple again, lingering this time. You knew what she wanted, you'd learned her tells by now.
“Ale…” you whispered softly, lifting your head a little to look at her.
Her eyes weren’t sleepy anymore, they were dark, focused, hungry in that quiet way she got when she wanted you but was holding herself back.
“Careful,” you murmured, brushing your thumb across her jaw, “your knee.”
Her lips curved into a tiny smirk. “I… careful. But still, I want you.” The way she said it, raw, needy, with her broken English sent heat rushing through you.
You shifted, half on top of her, testing how much weight she could handle after a tough physio session. She welcomed it instantly, arm wrapping around your waist to pull you flush against her. She kissed you then, slow at first, soft, like she was savouring you. But it deepened quickly, tongues sliding together as her hand crept under your shirt.
The soft whimper you let out when her thumb brushed just beneath your breast had her humming in approval, her lips breaking from yours only to murmur, “See? You… needy too.”
You laughed breathlessly against her mouth. “Maybe I am.”
Her fingers dug into your hip, her control tugging at you again, even though she was the one injured and god you loved it.
Her knee might have slowed her down physically, but everything in the way she touched you, kissed you, wanted you, none of that was diminished.
The air between you was thick with promise now.
Her lips were hot against yours, her hand warm and firm on your breast as though she was reminding you who really set the pace here, even with one leg out of commission. You shifted higher onto her, careful not to jar her, and Alexia exhaled sharply, a sound halfway between a moan and a sigh.
“Muppet…” she whispered, and you caught the faintest tremor in her voice, need wrapped in restraint.
You kissed her jaw, her throat, her collarbone, tracing a line that had her breath hitching. She tugged at your shirt until you lifted your arms to help her, tossing it somewhere on the floor. The way her eyes roamed your body, slow and intent, made your cheeks burn and your chest swell.
“You are so…” she whispered in her broken English, shaking her head, searching for the word. She gave up and kissed you instead, deep, claiming, like the word didn’t matter anymore.
You moved carefully, bracing one hand on the mattress so you didn’t lean too heavily on her knee, and her free hand slid down into your shorts, fingers finding bare skin. You gasped, hips bucking, your forehead falling to her shoulder as she worked you open with that deliberate patience that always drove you wild. "Ale you knee-"
“Shh… quiet,” she murmured against your ear, the smirk audible in her tone. “My knee… but my hand is fine.”
The laugh that bubbled out of you broke into a moan when she curled her fingers just right. You clung to her, pressing desperate kisses to her shoulder, her neck, anywhere you could reach. “Ale—” you whimpered, “you’re supposed to be taking it easy.”
She nipped lightly at your earlobe, her thumb finding your clit in slow, teasing circles. “This… is easy,” she whispered, and then, with a darker edge: “And you… are mine.”
You couldn’t argue, not when she was unraveling you so perfectly. Your thighs trembled, your moans muffled against her throat, and when you finally came undone, she held you steady through it, whispering soft Spanish against your hair as though you’d collapse without her.
You slumped against her chest, heart racing, and she kissed your temple like nothing had just happened, still stroking lazy patterns on your skin.
Her knee was hurt, but the fire in her, that part of her was as fierce as ever, her hand digging into your hip like she was still the one in control. But you shifted slowly, careful of her injured knee, easing her down into the pillows so she was flat on her back.
“Baby,” you whispered against her lips, “let me.”
She blinked up at you, lips parted, her eyes hazy but questioning. “Let… you?”
You nodded, pressing a kiss to the corner of her mouth, then lower to her jaw, her throat. “You don’t get to do all the work. Not this time.”
Her smirk wavered, caught somewhere between amusement and desire. “Muppet, you don’t—”
“Yes, I do,” you cut in softly, sliding your hand under her shirt, over her toned abs. “You’ve been frustrated, hurting, angry at your knee… let me make you forget it for a little while.”
Her chest rose sharply under your palm, her eyes darkening.
You kissed down her body, peeling her shorts down carefully, mindful not to jostle her leg. Her hand twitched at your shoulder like she wanted to stop you but the moment your lips ghosted over the inside of her thigh, she let out the smallest, neediest sound, her head falling back.
“That’s it,” you murmured, kissing closer, teasing her until she was whispering your name in broken pleas. “Let me take care of you, Ale.”
When your mouth finally pressed where she wanted you most, her whole body shivered. She clutched at the sheets, then at your hair, desperate and undone. Her Spanish tumbled out between moans, half curses, half prayers, as you worked her slowly, deliberately, building her up until she was trembling.
“Y/N,” she gasped, her accent wrapping around your name, her hips twitching against your hold. “Please… please, I…”
You held her steady, never breaking rhythm, never letting her go until she finally fell apart, back arching, a raw, unguarded cry spilling from her lips. You didn’t stop until her thighs quivered and her hands tugged you up, pulling you into her arms.
She was still breathless when she kissed you, her smile lazy, sated. “Muppet…” she whispered, voice hoarse, “you… tongue good.”
You laughed against her mouth, brushing sweaty hair back from her forehead. “And you,” you teased softly, “are mine.”
She hummed, pressing another kiss to your lips, and for once, Alexia Putellas didn’t argue.
You lay sprawled half across her, your head on her chest, her fingertips lazily stroking up and down your arm. Her breathing had mostly evened out, but there was still that little tremor in it the one that told you she was blissfully wrecked.
After a few minutes of silence, she shifted slightly, her lips brushing the top of your hair. “You eat me… good,” she said in her soft, broken English, her voice husky from earlier. “I enjoy… very much.”
You smiled against her skin, biting back a laugh at her phrasing, and tipped your head up to kiss her jaw. “Glad to hear it,” you teased, giving her hip a gentle squeeze.
There was a pause, comfortable, then you tilted your head curiously. “Ale… would you ever change your mind about… receiving the strap? Or is that a hard no for you?”
Her chest rose slowly beneath you, her fingers pausing in their tracing. She didn’t answer right away, her silence heavy enough to make you glance up. Instead of answering directly, her lips quirked into the faintest smirk. “You want to wear it? That why you ask?”
You shrugged, feigning nonchalance though your heart was beating faster. “Was just a question, that’s all.”
She studied you for a long moment, her eyes dark but unreadable. Then she hummed softly, tugging you closer until her mouth brushed your temple. “Mmm… maybe one day I tell you.”
The way she said it, teasing, mysterious, like she already knew the answer but was keeping it from you, sent a shiver through you, “Tease,” you muttered against her collarbone, making her chuckle low in her chest.
Her hand squeezed your thigh, slow and deliberate, before resuming its gentle stroking. “And still… you love me.”
“Unfortunately for me, yeah,” you teased back, but the warmth in your voice gave you away.
You kissed Alexia lips as she rolled off the bed, "I'll be back in a minute with some ice for that knee" you say as you head to the bedroom door.
“Muppet…” she murmured again, her eyes lifting, her voice was soft, almost fragile, and it tugged at something in your chest.
You paused at the doorway, hand on the handle, turning back to her, “Yeah, baby?” you answered, leaning slightly against the frame.
“Gracias,” she whispered, a faint smile tugging at her lips.
You felt your chest warm, softening at the simplicity of the moment. “No need to thank me,” you said gently, stepping closer. “I’d do anything for you.”
Her smile deepened, just a little, and she reached out to rest a hand on your wrist. You leaned down, pressing a quick, reassuring kiss to her temple before giving her arm a gentle squeeze and heading for the kitchen to grab the ice for her knee, your mind lingering on how small gestures between you two carried so much meaning.
Even in her exhaustion, Alexia’s quiet gratitude stayed with you as you moved, and you found yourself smiling to yourself at the thought that this little domestic, caring rhythm was exactly what you loved about being with her.
You soon returned with the bag of ice, carefully sitting beside her on the edge of the bed.
“Here,” you said softly, sliding the pack gently over her knee. She flinched just slightly at the cold, and you chuckled, pressing it in with a careful hand.
“Ah… cold,” she muttered, but there was that familiar smirk tugging at her lips.
You smiled down at her. “Better?”
“Much better,” she admitted, letting her leg relax against yours. After a moment, her eyes lifted to yours, a hint of vulnerability mixed with mischief. “How long… you can stay?” she asked quietly, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “You busy in London… work…”
You tilted your head, caught between teasing her and giving her a reassuring smile. “I’m busy, yeah. But…” You pressed the ice a little more carefully, holding her gaze. “…for you? I can stay as long as you need me.”
Her lips parted slightly, and she let out a soft laugh, part teasing, part genuine relief. “Muppet…” she whispered, leaning a little closer, “I like you… stay.”
You felt your chest tighten at the simple request, leaning down to kiss her temple. “Of course, baby. I’m not going anywhere.”
She hummed softly, resting back against the pillows, the faintest glow of a smile on her face as you kept the ice in place, your hand brushing her thigh just enough to remind her you were there carefully, tenderly, entirely present.
You let your fingertips trail slowly up her stomach, grazing the curve beneath her ribcage.
“You need to get some sleep, Ale,” you murmured softly, your thumb lightly tracing lazy circles. “You look tired… you need to rest”
Her eyes fluttered shut for a moment at your touch, but she gave a small, teasing hum instead of answering. You leaned a little closer, brushing a kiss over her temple.
“Really,” you continued, letting your fingers linger gently on her skin, “sleep now. Your knee… and you… both need it.”
She let out a soft sigh, a little smile tugging at her lips, the tension in her shoulders slowly easing under your touch. Even with the stubborn edge she always carried, she melted a little, letting you soothe her as she drifted toward rest.
You stayed there, your fingers tracing lazy patterns over her stomach, watching the rise and fall of her chest as her breathing gradually slowed. The faint warmth of her skin beneath your hand made you smile softly, careful not to press too hard on her injured knee.
Her eyelids drooped lower with each passing moment, a quiet hum escaping her lips as she shifted slightly, finally curling into a more comfortable position. You leaned back just enough to rest your chin near her shoulder, tracing small, reassuring circles with your thumb.
“Shh… sleep, Ale,” you whispered softly, brushing a loose strand of hair from her forehead. “I’m right here.”
Her hand twitched once against yours, a tiny grip, and then settled, fingers relaxing. The tension that had been so present earlier, the stubbornness, the frustration seemed to dissolve as she surrendered to the quiet comfort of the moment.
You stayed like that, content to just watch over her, occasionally adjusting the ice pack and letting your hand linger on her stomach, feeling the slow rhythm of her body syncing with your own heartbeat. There was no rush, no distractions, just the two of you in a small, quiet cocoon.
Minutes passed, and you realised she had finally drifted into a peaceful sleep. Her breathing was steady, the faintest curve of a smile on her lips, and you couldn’t help but brush your fingers lightly across her cheek, pressing a soft kiss to her temple.
“Sweet dreams, my girl,” you murmured, your voice barely audible over the quiet hum of the room, “I’ll be here when you wake.”